


Ma Fleur, Mon Ange, Mon Tout

by mysterycritic135



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Albus Dumbledore Bashing, F/M, Molly Weasley Bashing, Powerful Harry, Ron Weasley Bashing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-21
Updated: 2020-02-07
Packaged: 2020-09-23 16:51:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 24,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20343451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mysterycritic135/pseuds/mysterycritic135
Summary: What happens if Harry was rescued from the Dursley's in the middle of the summer by Fleur, and adopted into the Delacour family? how will his power grow on his journey to learn how to love Fleur and his new family?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, everyone! Mystery Critic here, posting on here for the first time! I'm posting here on Archive at the urging of my beloved sister. I am so happy to be here, and I hope to have many new fans who don't use Fanfiction. I will be posting the older chapters as they are revised, and will not be posting any of the new ones until the old ones are caught up. As for the disclaimer, I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the rights affiliated with it. With that out of the way, sit back, relax, and enjoy chapter one of Ma Fleur!

**Chapter 1**

  
  


Harry sits on the couch, his parents on either side of him. His father is reading the latest daily prophet as he has his evening tea and his mother is reading a book on charms. Harry sighs as he focuses back on his book of brooms. Suddenly they heard a banging at the door….

Harry awoke as the banging on his bedroom door intrudes in on his dreams, Vernon's voice booming through the thin wood.

"Wake up, boy!" He yells, continuing to pound on the door. "If you don't get up now, we won't be able to beat the bloody traffic!"

"I'm up!" Harry snaps back, sitting up and rubbing his temples. "I'm getting dressed now." "Alright, hurry up then!" With that, the loud, thumping footsteps of his "uncle" recede from in front of his door as Harry sighs, frustrated, running his hands through his raven black hair. He's been dreading this trip to France for the last two weeks, and the depressive day had finally shown it's ugly face. He never had the best time on vacations, the majority of them consisting of coming back to this awful place and suffering the abuse of his so-called family. He stands up and stretches, groaning as his muscles adjust to being awake once more. He removes his pajamas, putting on a gray t-shirt and a pair of faded blue jeans both too big. He throws last minute things into his trunk and drags his trunk down the stairs and waits in the foyer for the rest of the Dursley's to finish getting ready. They walk into the foyer and stop in front of him as they stare at him. Petunia scoffs, obviously appalled by Harry's lack of proper clothes. Dudley puffs out his bulbous chest, proud of his fancy cardigan, vest, and corduroy slacks. Vernon stares down at his trunk, his face turning red and seeming to inflate as he points at it.

"Why are you bringing that thing?" he spits out, his face resembling a steamed beet. "I thought you weren't going back until September!"

"I told you already," Harry said, sighing in frustration as he stares at Vernon, his emerald eyes piercing through him as he snaps back. "After we get back from France, I'm going to the Burrow for the rest of the summer, remember? You won't have to deal with me once the trip is over."

Vernon opens his mouth as if to say something, then closes it and whacks Harry hard across the face, causing him to fall to the ground groaning. Harry quickly gets back up to avoid being kicked and wipes away the tears that sprung to his face; "Watch your tone boy" Vernon warns, then motioning for them all to leave. Petunia, Vernon, and Dudley put their suitcases next to the car, while Harry remains inside and looks down at his suitcase. He waves his hand over it slowly, concentrating hard as he focuses his magical energy through his hand. After a few tries, the suitcase jumps up from the ground, shrinks down to the size of a small lighter, and he slips it into his pocket, mentally thanking Lupin for giving him tips on how to avoid the trace. Without performing an actual spell, and focusing completely on intent, he was able to circumvent the trace. He might try his best to behave most of the time, but he would never stop being a Marauder. Harry walks outside and Vernon calls out to him.

"Boy!" He snaps, "Put the bags in the boot," Vernon says as he walks past locking the door. Harry loads the bags into the boot before shutting the door. He slides into the car behind Vernon, his legs uncomfortably folded to make room for Vernon's girth. He even had the car modified but his size was still too much for the stylish four-door, and the car purrs to life, pulling away from Number 4 Privet Drive.

After several hours of driving, Petunia's squeaky voice chimes in, pointing out the window.

"Oh look, Diddykins!" She squeals, pointing at the sign coming up. "We're coming up to the ferry now!"

Dudley looks out the window, a bewildered look on his face as he stares at the ferry. Harry couldn't see how Dudley could be so interested in a stupid boat. After a few minutes of slowly driving down to the beach, the sand spitting out behind the tires as he tries driving on the sand, Vernon steers the car down the pier up to the ticket booth and rolls down the window.

"Yes, hello. May I have four tickets, please?" He asks, the best smile on his face as he talks to the saleswoman. She turns around and looks at him, darting her brown eyes up and down quickly, assessing him as she blows a bubble with her gum. As it pops she scoffs and rolls her eyes with a nod, eliciting a chuckle from Harry. Vernon hands over the money to the girl and she hands back four tickets. He nods a little and pulls away from the booth. The car pulls up onto the ferry and Vernon cuts the engine, sighing as he looks towards Petunia and Dudley.

"Are we ready for a great family vacation?" He says smiling at them. After they both clap and smile at him, he turns to Harry. "I hope you're going to behave, boy. I don't want to have to regret bringing you along. Understood?"

Harry nods stiffly, opening the door and getting out of the car to stretch his legs after the long drive through the English countryside. He moves up to Vernon's window and knocked. Opening the door, Vernon got out and glowered at him.

"Yes, boy?" He said, clearly annoyed.

"I'm just going to wander around. Maybe go to the front and watch the water." Vernon opens his mouth to protest, but Harry cuts him off.

"Don't worry, I won't get into any trouble, I won't speak to anyone unless spoken to first, and I'll mind my own business. I won't do anything to embarrass you, I promise."

"I, well..." Vernon nods, and motions for him to go. "Off with you, then."

"Thank you," Harry said, turning heel and walking off towards the bow of the boat, not turning back as he already starts smiling, happy that he is going to have at least an hour and a half of peace before they're in France. Harry walks for a few minutes until he comes across a couple of boys surrounding a beautiful young woman, ogling at her like they were staring at Aphrodite. He could understand why, as she was incredibly gorgeous, almost perfect. Her silvery blonde hair flowed down to her waist, shining in the sun as she flips it, trying her best to ignore the boys. She looks to Harry and their eyes meet, sapphire eyes clashing with his emerald, a blush creeping across his cheeks before he turns his face away and keeps walking past her. He continues on until he reaches the bow railing and leans against it, staring out at the water as it parts around the hull. Harry looks to the side as the beautiful young woman from before leans against the railing next to him, staring at him for a moment before saying something to him in French.

"I'm sorry, but I don't speak French," Harry says, remembering his promise to Vernon about not speaking to people he starts turning to walk away.

"Forgive me." She says, her voice an ethereal jingle that sent shivers throughout his body and kept his feet rooted to the ground. "I was 'oping to find someone 'ho could speak French, but so far everyone 'as just ogled at me. Anyway, my name is Fleur Delacour. May I ask your name?"

"Well, I see no problem with that." He responded, turning around and taking her extended hand gently. Now that he couldn't leave on the polite premise of not speaking French it would be rude to leave and rudeness would be embarrassing, thought Harry. "I'm Harry. Harry Potter. It's nice to meet you."

Fleur nodded and says; "Arry Potter? That's a nice name." As she smiled the wind off the channel's water blew Harry's and Fleur's hair around, revealing Harry's scar. Fleur stares in shock for a moment, and before Harry could ask if she was alright she suddenly withdrew a wand and waves it around them, a slightly opaque bubble forming around them. When she looks back down, Harry has his wand out and pointed at her, the tip glowing red.

"Wait, I'm a witch! I don't want to harm you. I just put up a privacy ward." Fleur explains quickly as she stares down his wand.

"Wait, you know me?" Harry says, raising an eyebrow at the gorgeous young woman. As he looked around people were just avoiding them even Dudley who was no more than 10 feet away. He focuses back on Fleur. "So you're a witch?"

"But of course!" She says, flipping her hair behind her back. "One of ze best in my year at Beauxbatons Academy of Magic here in France. What about you? Do you go to 'Ogwarts?"

"Yeah, I do," Harry says, chuckling sheepishly as he rubs the back neck. "So, what are you doing here? Why aren't you in France?"

"Ah, well…" She says, looking away in embarrassment. "Zat would be a bit of a personal question, I'm afraid."

"Oh, I'm sorry." He says, putting his hands up defensively. "I didn't mean to intrude. I can leave if you want me to."

"Non, eet's fine." She says, looking up and smiling a little. "I could use ze company. Zat iz, if you don't mind."

"I wouldn't mind at all..." He says, another blush creeping up on his face.

"You are quite, comment tu dis*… Adorable, I believe, ze phrase is?" She says teasingly, gently tapping her finger against the tip of his nose. "Oui, you are adorable when you blush, Monsieur 'Arry Potter."

"Just Harry, if it's okay." He says, shaking the blush off and smiling up at her.

"'Arry eet iz." She says, smiling brilliantly. Harry looks into her eyes as she smiles, his mind going out the window as all he can see is her bright sapphire eyes. As he stares, an unfamiliar feeling washes over, like everything he knew no longer existed, while everything that ever would be was there in her eyes. As he falls deep into the spell of her eyes, he doesn't hear her calling to him, or the water, or the honking of the boats' horn. "Arry, are you alright?"

"Huh?" He says, snapping back into reality, the feeling disappearing as he shakes off what just happened. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just zoning out for a second."

'Well, then.' Fleur thinks, staring at him up and down with an appreciative look. "Eet's not often someone just zones out around me Monsieur Potter" Fleur smiles as Harry's blush renewed.

"Anyway..." Harry says, starting to engage in a conversation back and forth with her about Hogwarts and Beauxbatons. After a while, Harry is the one talking as Fleur is just staring at him, listening intently and nodding. Harry notices and blushes, looking away. After a few moments, he speaks up, breaking the silence and blushing, noticing the way she was looking at him.

"So, the blokes really like you, don't they?"

"Well, of course, zey do." She says, getting a raised eyebrow from Harry. "I am a Veela, after all."

"What's a Veela?" He asks, cocking his head a little. "Is that some kind of French Ministry position, or something?"

Fleur starts laughing, a wondrous sound that fills the air, even more beautiful than the peals of bells in the countryside.

"Non, silly boy." She says, wiping away a tear that had formed on her cheek from the laughter. "A Veela iz a magical creature. We are always beautiful women 'ho 'ave an allure on almost all men, and some women, as well. 'Owever, if you make us angry, you will regret it."

"What happens if one of you gets angry?" He asks, gulping and blushing as she gives him a sultry look, her sapphire eyes darkening a little as her voice lowers to a purr.

"Maybe one day you can see for yourself, mon cher.**" She says, raising an eyebrow when all he does is blush while her allure is on full strength.

"Very interesting..."

"W...What is?" He says looking up, a bright blush still on his face.

"Well, ze fact zat you are still standing, for one." She smiles when a confused look appears on his face. "Ze allure I just told you about eez iz at eet's strongest, and zat would drop most full-grown men to zeir knees, to say nothing of 'ormonal teenagers. Ze fact zat you are unaffected by eet eez very interesting."

"Why's that?" He asks, his intrigue increasing as he looks at her inquisitively.

"It might mean somezing or nozzing at all," Fleur responds looking him up and down. "It might mean my magic 'as chosen to bond to you, or you are in love wiz someone else." She explains.

"But… Why would it be someone like me?" He asks, his previous composure falling for just a moment, but it was long enough to see the sadness and fear that was hiding behind the mask. Fleur sees through it for a moment before the mask was back in place.

"What do you mean, 'Arry?" She asks, looking into his eyes worry and overtaking her before a voice calls out from several yards away.

"Boy!" Vernon yells from out of sight. "We're almost there. Get over here and get in the car!"

"I've got to go…" He says, sighing as a cold and emotionless mask appears on his face, turning to go back. Fleur gasps slightly as this new mask appeared sniffing all life from his eyes. "It was one of the biggest pleasures of my life to talk to you. This is goodbye, I guess."

"Non, wait!" She says, grabbing his wrist and spinning him around. She pulls out a small piece of paper and a muggle pen from her satchel, writing something down on the paper and folding it, placing it in his hand.

"I want to talk to you again, 'Arry. Zis is my address 'ere in France. Send me a letter whenever you can, oui?"

"Oui." He says, a smile creeping back on his face before it shatters and is replaced with that same cold face when Vernon calls out again.

"I said get over here, boy! NOW!" He sighs and turns back around and walks back towards the source of the horrible voice.

'Ze Boy 'Ho Lived…' Fleur thinks, watching him walk back. 'But why is he so sad? I must tell maman about him. Maybe she can cast light on this. But perhaps a trip to a friend. Harry was her destined after all, and a gift was in order.'


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, everyone! Mystery Critic here, back at you with another chapter of Ma Fleur here on AO3. Nothing much to really say, so let's just get right into it. I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the rights affiliated with it. With that out of the way, sit back and enjoy chapter two of Ma Fleur!

**Chapter 2**

  


_ Italics – _French

  


Fleur blinks and gasps before chasing after Harry, having forgotten to ask where he was staying in France.

"Mon Dieu! I could just visit 'im instead of 'aving 'im write." Fleur realizes as she runs toward him. She catches up with Harry as he was about to get into an automobile driven by the fattest man she had ever seen. "'Arry! Where are you staying in France? Maybe I could visit?" Fleur calls after him before he entered the car.

Harry's eyes widen in what Fleur thinks might be fear and she notices the fat man turning an impressive shade of red.

"Umm... I'll be staying at The Grand Hotel." Harry responds hurriedly, causing Fleur's brow furrows in confusion. She thinks she hears his voice tremble, but she isn’t sure why. Before she could ask, Harry climbs into the car. The fat man, whose face was clearly red, starts yelling loud enough for her to hear his muffled rage from where she was. Harry once again has that cold emotionless face on as the fat man drives the car off the ferry before the loading door had fully opened, ignoring the attendant's screams. The car jumps the ramp and thankfully lands safely on the other side before he peels off. Fleur hears the attendant mutter something about "stupid Brits" as he begins directing the rest of the cars off.

Fleur puzzles at the fat man's behavior. "Surely Harry hadn't made them that late for him to be that impatient?" She shakes her head and turns to the more important matter of her destined. "I must get him a gift. It is tradition, after all. Maybe something from Joanne's?"

She once more cast a quick temporary privacy ward and apparates away. A faint pop echoes through the small alley as Fleur Delacour reapparates, walking out of the passage with a regal posture. She walks down the street, ignoring the stares and catcalls that come her way as she turns and opens the door of a small shop. As the small silver bell at the top of the door jingles, tinkling chimes ring throughout the shop as the woman behind the counter turns to her with a smile.

"_Fleur, my dear!" _The woman exclaims, coming out from behind the counter and wrapping her arms around the young veela. The woman, Joanne, was an old family friend that reminded Fleur a lot of her mother, in appearance, at least. Long blonde hair, bright blue eyes, and an hourglass figure that would make most men drool. She and Fleur exchange a greeting, pecking each other on the cheek before moving over to peck the other.

"_ It's been too long, dear. How have you been?" _Joanne inquires, beaming at her.

"_I've been well, Madame Joanne," _Fleur answers the woman, smiling brightly. _"How have you been? How's your husband?"_

"_Oh, pfft!" _She snorts, waving her hand dismissively. _"He could not handle a woman like me." _

"_I've yet to see one who can, Joanne." _Fleur retorts, a mischievous smirk plastered on her face. "_You are incredibly difficult to deal with, being the hormonal ball breaker you are."_

"_Watch your tongue, Fleur," _Joanne warns playfully, a smile prying at her lips as she glares at her. "_I'm not afraid to smack a friend who deserves it, young lady."_

Fleur laughs and throws her hands up in mock surrender as she and Joanne hug again.

"_So, my young friend," _Joanne says walking back behind the counter, gesturing to the jewelry around her. "_How can your favorite squib help her favorite veela today?" _

"_Well, I need something simple, yet elegant."_ Fleur looked up as she remembers Harry's eyes, smiling as she loses herself imagining his eyes. "_Something as deep and green as those emerald eyes. How can eyes be so bright, yet so sad? They're filled with so much pain… I want to take away all that pain..."_

Joanne gapes at Fleur as she becomes lost in her trance, a single tear sliding down her cheek from the sadness of seeing that pain. Fleur snaps out of her stupor and absently wipes away the tear, looking at the jewelry saleswoman, a confused look on her face.

_"Fleur, my friend. What's wrong? Why are you crying?" _Asks a worried Joanne.

_"Crying?" _Responds Fleurhastily, brushing off her concern. She reaches up and touches her face, finding it wet._ "It's nothing, Joanne. Just some dust, I'm sure." _Fleur tries to reassure her friend. _'Why AM I crying?'_

_ "However, I'm not just here to visit. I need a piece of jewelry, male jewelry." _Says Fleur. Joanne gapes for a moment before asking.

"_ YOU FOUND A BOY?!" _She screams, rushing past her to lock the shop door and turning back towards Fleur, looming towards her. She grabs Fleur's wrist and drags her, eliciting a small squeak from the veela as her arm is jerked in the direction of upstairs. The young looking fifty-four-year-old squib practically drags Fleur upstairs as she sits her down in a chair and closes the door, rounding back on the young veela, a scared whimper escaping her mouth as Joanne towers over her.

"_ Tell me everything, right now!" _The beautiful squib demands excitedly.

"_Well, you know of him already…" _Fleur begins, looking to the side when Joanne starts listing off names of people she's tried to set Fleur up with.

"_ Andi, Sebastian, Jacques?" _When Fleur shakes her head with each name, Joanne thinks for a second before snapping her fingers and smiling.

"_ It's Claude, isn't it? I knew you'd take a liking to him!" _exclaims Joanne in excitement believing to have guessed.

"_CLAUDE?!" _Fleur scoffs, poking a finger towards her throat and makes a mock vomiting sound. "_He is appalling! A complete pig, and not to mention all he cares is about getting in my panties."_

"_ Really?!" _ Joanne says, stroking her chin. " _ Well, I give up. Who is it?" _

"_ Harry Potter," _Fleur says, a slight smirk on her face, but it disappears as Joanne gasps and grabs her shoulders, shaking her as a barrage of questions leaps out of her mouth.

"_ When did you meet Harry Potter?! How did you meet him?! Did you take him to bed?! Was he good?! He may be much younger than me, but you can bet I want to take that to bed!" _

Fleur shudders in fear as Joanne sighs softly, imagining taking her Harry to bed.

'Wait…_" _Fleur thinks, drifting away from the conversation a bit. 'My Harry? Sure, he's my destined mate, but he's not mine yet. Well, I mean, there's clearly something there, but he's not mine yet, is he?' Fleur snaps out of her train of thought to see Joanne staring at her, expecting answers.

"_ Oh, right. Well, it couldn't have been more than ten minutes ago. I met him on the ferry back to France from England. He was with some muggles that I assume were the family he's been living with during his summers. We did not get into bed together, Joanne. I'm not some harlot, you know! I'm a veela and a witch, I have more pride than that. Also, blech… I do not need to know who you would or would not take to bed, Madame." _

"_ There's nothing wrong with taking a man you just met to bed, Fleur. Why, I can list ten men _ _,_ _ at least, that your mother dragged into the closet downstairs two minutes after meeting them. As I recall them saying, your mother always was very good with her-" _

"_ I do NOT need to know about my mother's sexual exploits, Joanne!" _ Fleur interrupts, shuddering in disgust at the thought of her mother fornicating in the closet, muttering in absolute horror. _ "I've changed in there … I think I'm going to be sick..." _

"_I just cleaned the floors. Use the trash can, dear." _She insists, motioning by the door.

"_ I'll be fine," _ Fleur says, shaking her head. " _ Just don't tell me anything more about my mom and men before my father." _

"_Well, okay," _Joanne shrugs, turning around with an evil smirk on her face. "_Well, your mother and I did 'experiment' in there quite often, you know."_

"_ Good goddess, Joanne!" _ Fleur yells, covering her ears as Joanne chuckles maliciously. " _ I told you I don't want to hear anymore!" _

"_ You said nothing more about your mother and men," _ Joanne says, pulling forward her V-neck shirt, glancing at her breasts. " _ Last I checked, which was right now, I do not have a wand, Fleur." _

"_Okay, no more," _Fleur insists, shuddering once more. "_I came here for a reason. I'd like to buy a gift for him." _Fleur sighs in defeat as she finally gets to what she had come here for in the first place. The blush that has crept to her face from embarrassment and defeat receded. With an evil victory smirk, Joanne opens the door and leads Fleur downstairs so that she can look around. Fleur moves from case to case, staring meticulously at each piece of jewelry before stopping at a small case and pointing to a simple silver necklace with a bright green, broom-shaped emerald charm. _'From what I've read about him, he loves Quidditch.'_

"_That's perfect, Joanne__.__" _Fleur indicates the piece of jewelry, smiling as she nods in confirmation. "_How much do I owe you, Joanne?"_

"_ Nothing, of course!" _ She exclaims with a flourish, causing Fleur to raise an eyebrow inquisitively at the old French squib. " _ It's a gift to celebrate you finally finding your destined mate. I did the same thing for your mother, of course." _

Fleur smiles as she nods, hugging Joanne in thanks as she makes for the door.

"_ Just give me details when you finally take him to bed," _ Joanne says, chuckling when Fleur sticks her tongue out at her. " _ Your mother was always good with her tongue, too, you know." _

Joanne quickly ducks the tickling jinx that Fleur shoots at her as she walked out of the shop, laughter following the young blonde veela from inside the shop of the insane family friend.

-Fleur-

As the Dursley car pulls off the barge and onto the small gravel road that leads up into the countryside of France, Harry looks out of the window, a carefully grim look on his face. The drive is silent except for the murmurs of Petunia and Vernon as they figure out the way to Paris through the rolling hills of France, the sun shining down on the beautiful green grass. Harry worries that they would have to pull over after Fleur had called after them, but as they seemed to be too busy trying to find their way to the hotel, Harry relaxes, thinking they must have forgotten already. Harry watches the wind blow gently through the trees, the long grass of the fields sway along with the trees, a beautiful dance that Mother Nature seems to be putting on for Harry himself. As they pass by a small lake, Harry can't help but imagining him and the blonde beauty splashing each other in that glistening clear water.

_ "Oh, 'Arry!" _ Fleur giggles as Harry splashes her, only to have Fleur splash hi m back. _ "You're so mean!" _

_ "Yeah, well you're gorgeous!" _Harry says, splashing her again. The giggles that erupt from Fleur make him stare at her with longing and a deep desire. His eyes drift down her body, beads of water clinging to the French veela, her skin riddled with goosebumps from the temperature of the water. Harry walks closer, staring at the young woman's body as her bathing suit clings to her body, her curves more pronounced in the tight fabric. He looks from her body to her face, the stare of pure, wanton desire sends shivers down his spine as she wraps her arms around his neck, drifting closer until their lips are barely touching.

"_ Kiss me, 'Arry..." She whispers. _

"HARRY!" Vernon screams, snapping Harry out of his daydream. He shakes his head to clear his thoughts of the buxom French beauty, then reclaims his grim stare and despondent attitude.

"Yes?" He asks carefully hiding his anger from the man for intruding on his imagination.

"We're almost there, boy." He says, turning back to the road. "When we get there, you're to take our bags upstairs. You have a key, and so do we. Do whatever you want, just do not be in that room when we are not. You are not to bring anyone back with you, nor are you to go looking for any more freaks like you. Am I understood?"

"Yes, sir," Harry answers begrudgingly.

"We won't be giving you any money, so you'll have to use some of that freak money of yours to buy things," Vernon says, scoffing as if the very idea was a sin. "I assume you can convert your money into euros?"

"Yes, I can." Harry answers.

"I never thought I'd see the day, Petunia," Vernon says sarcastically, scoffing again. "The worthless freak actually doing something right for once."

As the Dursley's laugh, Harry does his best to keep his anger in control, digging his nails into his hands, drawing blood from his palms. They keep driving and eventually enter Paris, Harry starts to relax as the amusing escapades of "Vernon Gets Lost" make a comeback. Vernon pulls over and rolls down his window, leaning out the window to talk to a man walking by.

"Excoozay mwah?" Vernon says pathetically, making Harry shudder at the man's butchery of the French language. "Can you tell me where to find Lay Grand Hotel?"

"_ Oh, I am sorry, sir." _ The man responds in rapid French. " _ I do not speak English." _

"Freak! Ask the frog where The Grand Hotel is!" Vernon snaps at Harry, knowing his ability to speak French_ . _

"_ We're looking for The Grand Hotel," _ Harry says in a nearly flawless accent, pointing a thumb at Vernon. " _m_ _ y relatives and I can't seem to find it. He's never really been good at directions, and the woman can't read a map to save her life." _

"_ Oh, of course!" _ The man says after laughing. " _ You're actually almost there. Just go down and take a right at the next street, then turn left six streets down. It's the third building on the right, the largest on the block, so you can't miss it." _

"_ Thanks!" _Harry says, waving to him as he walks away.

"_ You're very welcome, my friend!" _ The man responds, waving back. " _ Tell your uncle to use less cologne, and more deodorant, and have that woman learn to read!" _

"_ I'll be sure to do that!" _Harry says, laughing. He sits back down in his seat to find all eyes on him, causing his expressionless mask to come back.

"Well, what did he say, boy?" Vernon demands, motioning to the road. "Where do we go?"

"Turn right at the end of the street, go six blocks, turn left, third building on the right."

Harry responds and Vernon nods after a moment of glaring at him.

"What did you say when you were pointing at me?" Asks Vernon menacingly.

"I was just telling him that the guy at the ferry gave you wrong directions and we got lost as a result," Harry replies as respectfully as he can.

Vernon nods in understanding and steers them down the street, following the instructions Harry has given him. Harry smiles internally at how he had insulted Vernon without him knowing, but his actual facial expression is an even deeper frown.

'How would Fleur react if she finds I lied to her about me being able to speak French?" Harry thinks. 'True, I had lied so I wouldn't get in trouble with Vernon for speaking to anyone. Saying I didn't speak French was a way out at the time. I know! I'll wait for the perfect time to reveal I can and say it was a prank. The twins would be so proud!' He decides. He wipes a fake tear away and smiles a little before focusing back on the passing buildings.

After about two minutes of driving, they come up to the hotel and Vernon drives into the parking lot. Harry gets out of the car and grabs one of the baggage carts, a bellhop coming up to help him.

"_No, thank you,__ but__ I got it," _Harry says, nodding so that he can keep relaxing. Harry brings it back towards the car and loads the bags up onto it, rolling it forward toward the elevator. As they get up to the room, Harry follows the Dursley's into the room and sets the bags next to the dresser. He starts unpacking as they busy themselves behind him. Harry feels uneasy with them behind him, but he tries not to worry about it. He finishes unpacking the clothes into the dresser for their two-week stay and grabs the cart to walk out the door, pushing it ahead of him.

Harry suddenly feels someone grab his hair and pull him backward, throwing him to the ground. He sees Vernon above him before feeling a kick to his ribs. Through the tears that sprung to his eyes, he sees Dudley watching grimly. He had always watched but never laughs or smiles during Harry's beatings. Petunia walks into the kitchen, talking about how lucky they are to get this hotel suite, seeming to not hear the impact of kicks and hits as Vernon beats on Harry's torso.

After Vernon became red in the face from exertion, he sits down on the bed, sweating profusely. Harry revels in the fact that as he gets older, the beatings from Vernon always get shorter.

"Who was that girl, boy?" Vernon asks calmly, the vein in his head bulging.

"She was just a girl, Uncle," Harry replies softly, keeping the pain from his voice. "She was a student doing research on England for a paper for her school. She had noticed me and asked me some questions. I think she was trying to finish her paper, or she was lazy, like most French people and never actually started it. It would have been rude to not answer the questions, and I didn't want to embarrass you." Harry explains his lie quickly, playing on his uncle's opinion that the French were lazy.

"Watch your tone, boy," Vernon growls and kicks Harry's chin, causing his head to snap back. Harry nearly loses consciousness, but he fights through it and recovers. "Take the cart back downstairs and don't come back. You will return when we are asleep and you will sleep on the floor of the kitchen. You will wake before us and have breakfast ready. Am I understood, boy?" Vernon orders as he lies on the bed, lifting his head to look at Harry. Harry nods and stands, remaining emotionless as he pushes the cart back into the elevator. He leaves it in the lobby and walks out the front door, while unbeknownst to him, a certain beautiful blonde veela is watching him come out. Fleur opens her mouth to call out to him and try and stop him, but she notices the cold simmering look of pure rage on his face, so she decides to follow him instead.

-Fleur-

Fleur walks on the opposite side of the street, keeping her eyes trained on Harry as he walks. After a few minutes, Harry leads Fleur to a park, walks up onto a small bridge over a large artistry pond, and stops. He turns and leans on the railing with a heavy, growling sigh of anger and sadness. Fleur sees the pain in his eyes and is entranced by it, her heart pulling her towards him. She walks up to him but stops at the foot of the bridge.

"'Arry?" She says, taking a step onto the bridge. Harry turns in surprise as he sees her, plastering a fake smile on his face in an instant.

"Fleur!" Harry says, smiling and rubbing the back of his neck, the anger and agony on his face were no longer there as he walks up to her.

"Why are you angry, 'Arry?" Fleur asks, placing a hand on his shoulder. He flinches away from her touch, and a hurt look crosses her face. Harry doesn't notice as he pulls away looking down, shocking her at how he responds to her touch. "'Arry, what's wrong?" She asks, concern layering her voice.

"Nothing, Fleur. I was just upset with my relatives. We like to play around and it got a little rough with my cousin, so I kind of stormed out of there when they were laughing." Harry smiles at her, light chuckles escaping him as if he was laughing at his immaturity. It all seems wooden as if he practices this routine.

"But why did you flinch when I touched you, 'Arry?" She asks suspiciously her eyes narrowing.

"Oh, sorry about that. It just surprised me when I felt your hand, and I wasn't expecting it. I'm kind of a jumpy person." he answers, smiling at her. His eyes are full of warmth, but something else that the veela could not recognize.

"Alright, zen…" Fleur accepts reluctantly, looking at him. "So. When do you 'ave to return to your family?"

"Oh, not for a while. I have a couple of hours to myself. They want to rest after the long drive." Harry replies. "By the way, why were you here, Fleur? I doubt I made that much of an impression for you to stalk me outside the hotel I would be at."

"Oh… Non, zat's not what 'appened!" Fleur says, trying to backpedal. She blushes at his smirk and tries to convince herself she isn't stalking him. 'You weren't stalking him, Fleur. You were waiting for him. Yeah, that's it! Stop being so unsure of yourself and get to why you were here in the first place!'

"I live near here," Fleur explains. "I remember you telling me which 'otel you're staying at, and zought you wouldn't mind going to dinner wiz me? Paris eez known for its many wonderful restaurants, you know."

Harry chuckles before accepting. "Of course, Fleur. I'd be happy to join you for dinner, but I will have to go to the bank. I don't have any euros."

"Non, Harry. You are a guest in my country, and I invited you out. I will pay, and I don't want to hear any more arguments about it. Got it?" She insists, placing her hands on her hips and looking at him with a smirk.

Harry seems conflicted at first but then smiles with gratitude in his eyes. "Sure, Fleur. I'd be delighted. Would you mind leading the way? I kind of don't know my way around." He jokes, his eyes locking onto hers.

"Follow me." She says, smiling at him. He was so interesting but that strangeness she sees in him that follows him like a cloud, she shivers internally. 'It's gloomy even when he is smiling and laughing. Even when he looks at me it's there... I'll have to find what it is. If I do, maybe I can help.' She thinks, leading Harry off the bridge and into the crowds of Paris.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp, that was chapter two, everyone! I hope you all enjoyed it and will continue to show support. Constructive criticism is always welcome, flames will be used to cook your skull. I'll see you all next time. This is Mystery Critic, signing off.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, everyone! Welcome back to another chapter of Ma Fleur! I hope to see lots of positivity on this story, and I will continue to post when the chapters are edited. As for the disclaimer, I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the rights affiliated with it. With that done, enjoy chapter three!

_ Italics _ \-  French

Fleur walks down the streets of Paris, her hand locked firmly onto Harry's as her fingers entwine within his. The last few days of exploring Paris with her have been some of the best of Harry's young life. The food, the sights, the people, everything has been a sight to behold for Harry. Harry points to a small cafe on the corner of the street, looking up at Fleur with a smile.

"Think we can go in there, Fleur?" He says, tugging gently on her hand like a child. "I've heard great things about the coffee here in Paris. It's supposed to be one of the best in the world."

"Well, you are quite right about zat, 'Arry," Fleur responds, grinning from ear to ear. "Paris 'as some of ze best cafes in ze world, and I am glad you want to try eet. Yes, we can go in zere."

Smiling even wider, Harry practically drags Fleur into the small shop, taking in the sights of the incredible art donning the walls. Fleur giggles in amusement at Harry's bewilderment, pulling gently on his hand to lead him up to the counter. Harry looks behind the barista, only to have a confused look cross his face to see no menu.

"Fleur, why isn't there a menu?" Harry asks, pointing behind the young lady at the counter.

"Ah, well. You see, a lot of cafes 'ere in Paris do not 'ave a menu." She explains. "Ze reason for zis eez zat in Paris, most cafes do not 'ave as many options as in England."

"Well, that makes sense." He says, curling his finger around his chin in contemplation. "So, what should I get?"

"Do you trust me, 'Arry?" She asks, smiling when he nods without hesitation. Turning to the barista, she giggles. "Good.  _ Two hazelnut coffees, please. _ "

Nodding, the young lady starts preparing their drinks. Fleur pulls Harry towards a small couch in the back of the room. She sits Harry down and takes her seat next to him, wrapping her arms around his bicep. She leans her head down on to his shoulder, smiling happily as she closes her eyes. After a few minutes, the barista walks up to them and places their drinks on the small table in front of them. Harry pulls out ten Euros and places it in the barista's hand.

_"Keep the change, miss,"_ Harry says, earning a smile from the young lady. After voicing her thanks, the young lady moves back to behind the counter as a few men walk in.

"Zat was very good, 'Arry," Fleur says, making Harry blush at the compliment. "Keep practicing and you may one day become very fluent in ze French language."

"Merci, Fleur." He responds, causing a giggle to escape Fleur's lips. She leans over and kisses his cheek before picking up her cup and taking a small sip. Harry follows suit, his eyes widening when the coffee touches his tongue.

"Wow! This is so much better than what we have in England." He says, taking another sip and groans in pleasure at the taste of the drink. Fleur blushes slightly before turning her gaze to the coffee.

"Zank you, 'Arry," Fleur says, stroking his hand with her thumb. "I am glad to 'ear zat you zink so 'ighly of Paris."

"Well, with coffee like this, I'm surprised I never came here before," Harry says, chuckling warmly. "Anyway, Fleur. What do you want to do after this?"

"Whatever you want to do, 'Arry." She says, smiling happily. "I really don't mind. I just want to spend time wiz you."

Harry blushes a faint shade of red, causing Fleur's heart to flutter s a pale pink blush crosses her cheek, as well. "Well, it is getting a little late," Harry says, looking back at Fleur, her gaze locking with his own. "Maybe we can go have some dinner? A pleasant candlelight dinner at a nice restaurant?"

"Zat would be wonderful, 'Arry." She responds, smiling contentedly as the blush stays glued to her face. 'I know zat 'e's my mate, but how can I be falling for him so fast? I mean, 'e is very charming and quite 'andsome, but… Could I really be falling in love zis fast?'

"Fleur?" Harry says, interrupting her train of thought.

"Hm?" She says, snapping out of her daze and meeting his gaze. "Oh! Pardon, 'Arry. I was lost in zought. Could you repeat zat?"

"I asked if you wanted to go to the restaurant now." He said, smiling in amusement.

"Oh. Zat would be wonderful, 'Arry." She says, standing up and smoothing out her dress. "Shall we, mon amour?"

Blushing at the pet name she referred to him as, he stands up and walks towards the exit with her. As they walk, a group of men walk in and mutter under their breath to each other. As they walk by, one of them smacks Fleur square on the ass, earning high fives and laughter from the others. Harry stopped and turned around to face them, reaching for his wand when Fleur places a hand on his shoulder to stop him.

"Eet's not worth it, 'Arry," Fleur says soothingly, pulling him towards the door with her. "Zey are just worzless pigs."

Harry starts to walk with her when he hears words from one of the men that make his blood run cold, rage building as he freezes in place.  " _ Look, boys! He needs his woman to protect him. Maybe we should that ditzy tramp what a real man is like. _ " 

"What did you just say, you worthless piece of shit?" Harry growls, his voice cold and dangerous, devoid of any emotion besides pure rage. The men turn to look at each other, then back at Harry before breaking into fits of laughter. The tables and chairs in the room begin to shake violently, Harry's rage sending out of waves of magic. Fleur looks around in a panic before gazing back at her mate in amazement at the palpable energy radiating from him. Shaking out of her stupor, she realizes that failing to intervene would result in the deaths of the muggles. She tries pulling him away, only to be unable to move him from that spot. She turns to the men and snaps at them frantically;  " _ Get out here before you get hurt! Go out the back, now! _ "  She yells, hoping they get the hint. Unfortunately, she wasn't too lucky as their idiocy continues to rear its ugly face. 

" _ Are you threatening us, sweetheart? _ "  One of them says, chuckling cockily.  " _ What the hell can you do to us? You should be worried about what we can do to you. _ "

" _ I'm trying to save your lives, you idiots! _ "  She snaps, glaring at them.  " _ Get out through the back door before you get killed! _ " 

" _ Sounds like you're threatening us again. _ "  He says, sauntering up to them. As he passes by Harry, his arm shoots out and grabs his forearm in an iron grip. He smirks and moves to wrench his arm out of Harry's grip, only to realize that he can't overpower the young man.  " _ Let me go, you stupid bastard _ !" 

He pulls his fist back to punch the kid holding him in place, but Harry twists hard before he can. The man's bones snapping like twigs under his hands, his screams echo throughout the cafe as Harry let's go of the man's wrist and drops him to the floor. He turns back to the others, the overflow of his magic coursing through his veins, pure power, and energy barreling throughout his entire body. Another one of the idiots rush forward at Harry and he ducks down, slamming his fist forward into the man's stomach. The man stops suddenly, shaking jerkily before falling to the floor and clutching his stomach in agony. He tries to scream, but nothing comes out. Harry turns to the last one and takes a step forward, causing him to stumble back. He turns around and runs out through the back door of the cafe. Harry ignores him and turns back towards Fleur who's staring at him with fear in her eyes, her hand covering her mouth. Harry's rage dies down in an instant, the fear in her eyes causing his heart to break. He drops his head and stares at the floor, unable to look her in the eyes. She rushes forward and wraps her arms around him tightly before stepping back and running her hands over his body gently.

"Are you okay, 'Arry?!" She says, finishing her once-over. "Are you 'urt at all?"

Looking up, Harry meets her gaze to see no fear in her eyes, only concern. "I'm… fine, Fleur..." he says in confusion. "How… How are you not afraid of me?"

"I could never be afraid of you, mon amour." She says, placing her lips gently on his forehead. "I was afraid for you. All zat magic coming out of you was not normal, 'Arry. Eet'z dangerous. For you and zose around you. Is zis ze first time eet 'as 'appened?"

"Well, I once made my aunt blow up." He says with a nostalgic chuckle.

"Non, zat is not like zis. Zat was accidental magic. I could feel zis." She says, placing a hand on his cheek comfortingly. "'Arry, zis was primal, powerful, and very old. I could feel it. Do you know anyzing about your family?"

"No, not really..." He says sadly, looking down. "I only know about my parents and very little at that."

"We need to find out, amour." She says, stroking his cheek and smiling at him. "We'll do it togezzer, I promise. Would you still like to go for dinner?"

"I hope you don't get upset over this," He began, looking away in shame. "But I'm really tired. That really drained me. Can we do this tomorrow?"

Placing her hand on his cheek, she turns his face towards his. "Of course we can, 'Arry." She says, kissing his cheek with a smile. Harry feels his cheek burning crimson as he smiles back. He places his hand on his cheek and he feels dozens of little fireworks on the spot her lips just were.

"Thanks, Fleur..." He mutters, blushing madly. Fleur giggles and holds her hand out in demand for his hand. Fleur leads him out of the cafe and they start walking in silence, walking hand in hand and saying nothing. She walks with him towards the hotel and through a park, stopping at a small bridge and turning towards him.

"Well, ze 'otel is right over zere." She says, pointing a thumb over her shoulder. "Do you want me to walk you back?"

Teasingly, she twirls a lock of her hair around her finger and bites her lip, turning from side to side.

"No, I think I'll be fine," Harry says, chuckling and rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. As he does, his sweater sleeve slides back a little. Fleur catches a brief glimpse of something on his arm from under the long sleeve.

"'Arry, you have something on your arm." Confused, he looks down at the sleeve and turns his arm over. "Non, not on your sleeve. Under it."

Harry stiffens as his hand flies to his sleeve instinctively, pulling it as far down over his wrist as possible. "Uh, it's… It's nothing, Fleur." He stutters, his eyes flitting around nervously as if he was looking for an enemy that was about to pop out at any moment. "Please don't worry about it."

"Non, 'Arry!" Fleur says, grabbing his sleeve and trying to pull it up. "Show me what eet is, 'Arry!"

"Please, Fleur..." Harry pleads, his eyes desperate as he stares into hers. "Please just leave it be..."

"'Arry, please show me your arm..." She says, softening her voice as she pushes out with her allure a bit to relax him. She places her hand on his cheek again, smiling in a silent plea. "Please, mon amour. Trust me, 'Arry..."

Sighing in defeat, Harry loosens his grip and let's go of his sleeve, his arms dropping to his side. He looks down to avoid the disgust and horror in her face. "Zank you, 'Arry." She says, gripping the cuff of his sleeve and pulling it up slowly, shock and anger appearing on her face as she sees dozens of assorted scars littering his arm. Burns, cuts, welts, and numerous unidentifiable markings cover nearly all of his forearm. "'Arry… 'Ho did zis to you?"

Harry says nothing as he sends a silent prayer to whoever may be listening that this is all a dream. 'Ze suffering he must 'ave went zrough...' Fleur thinks, unable to take her eyes off the abuse that covers his arm. 'Zis is 'orrible… 'Ho would do zis to him?! Well, one zing is for sure. 'Hoever did zis to him is going to pay very dearly.'

"Fleur, please..." He begs, still averting his gaze. "Just leave this be. There's nothing you can do..."

"Non, 'Arry!" She snaps, causing him to flinch away from her angry tone. "I will not leave zis alone! Tell me 'ho did zis to you,' Arry! Please!"

Harry slowly looks up to see Fleur shaking, her gaze shattering any resistance as he sees the panic in her eyes. "It was… My relatives… The ones who you saw on the ferry..." He says slowly. "Fleur… I'm sorry you had to see this. I never wanted anyone to. Please don't tell anyone..."

"Why shouldn't I tell anyone, 'Arry?!" She screamed frantically. "Zey are torturing you! Zat is what zis eez, 'Arry! Zis is pure evil! Zis makes ze Dark Lord's deeds look like a charity drive!"

"Fleur, please don't-"

"Non, 'Arry!" she says, grabbing his arm. "We are going to put a stop to zis once and for all."

"Fleur, wait!" Harry says, trying to wrestle his way out of her grip. "Where are you taking me?"

"We're going to my fazzer." She says, her body radiating with heat from the anger she's feeling. "We're going to fix zis once and for all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's chapter three, everyone! I hope you all enjoyed it and will continue to read and enjoy. Constructive criticism is always welcome, and flames will be used to make cookies! I'll see you all next time. This is Mystery Critic, signing off.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, everyone! Mystery Critic here, back at you with another chapter for Ma Fleur! I hope everyone is continuing to enjoy the story and will keep showing support. As for the disclaimer, I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the rights affiliated with it. With that out of the way, sit back, relax, and enjoy chapter four!

**WARNING - Suicide attempt in this chapter. Read at your own risk.**

_ Italics _ \- French

"Fleur, please wait!" Harry pleads, still being dragged by an enraged Fleur. Her head snaps back to look at him, her eyes darker than her usual brilliant sapphire as she glares at him.

"Why should I wait, 'Arry?!" She snaps at him, her eyes saddening a little when he flinches back and puts his arm over his face in defense. She takes a breath and composes herself, her voice soft and gentle as she lays her hand on his arm lovingly. "'Arry, please don't do zat. I will not ever hurt you, my love. You are my destined mate, and I will never do anyzing to hurt you." Fleur says softly as she gazes into his eyes, trying to project as much comfort to him as possible.

"You swear?" Harry says, shakily lowering his arm as he looks at her.

"Oui, mon amour." She says, smiling warmly as she pulls his hand up to her lips and placing them gently on the back.

"Now, please. Tell me why I shouldn't bring you to my fazzer right now, or better yet go and kill zose  _ evil assholes _ right now." Fleur says, some of her anger seeping into her voice.

"I don't love them, or even like them, but they're still human beings. They're not good people, but I don't want them to be hurt..." Harry says slowly, Fleur's mouth hanging open in shock at his kind soul, despite what they've done to them. "Hurting them just because they hurt me isn't right. Besides, they're right about me being a freak, anyway..."

"'Arry, you are not a freak!" Fleur snaps, her eyes darkening in rage again. "You are not now, nor 'ave you ever been one! 'Ow could you even zink zat?! Just because you 'ave been called a freak doesn't make you one!"

"I've been called one all my life, Fleur..." He says, lowering his head in shame, tears starting to flow from his eyes. Harry explained, despair becoming apparent in his voice. "I'm inclined to agree with them, especially after I found out my parents are dead because of me..."

"Zat was not your fault, 'Arry!" Fleur screams, putting her hands on both sides of his face, ignoring his flinch away from her touch. "Zat was ze result of a madman's evil actions, and I am sure zat your parents would never blame you for zeir deaths!"

"But I’m here and they’re not Fleur!" Harry yells back, tears flowing down his face as he stares at her. "If it wasn't for me being born, that bastard would have never come after me and my parents would still be happy and alive! I don't deserve to be alive, Fleur!"

Harry wrenches away from her and takes off, sprinting away from her like a bullet shooting out of a gun.

"'Arry, wait!" Fleur yells, starting to run after him. She chases him through the park, keeping her eyes locked on him. As she reaches the edge of the park, she trips on a root and hits the ground hard. When she looks up, her beloved is nowhere in sight as she stands up and looks around to make sure no one can see her as she disapparates.

-Fleur-

Harry keeps running, voices rampaging wildly through his head as he tries his best to just get away from everything.

'You should just do the world a favor and kill yourself. Drop-dead, you stupid freak! You don't belong here!' The words of the people who treated him like garbage all his life stamped throughout his mind as he stops running. He breathes heavily, the run taking away his breath as he tries to compose himself before looking around. He looks up and sees the hotel at the end of the block, and starts towards it. He walks into the lobby, drawing stares at his tear-soaked face from the people around him. He ignores them and walks up the stairs slowly, the abuse he suffers continuing to rampage through his mind before he notices he's already reached the room. He put his key in the lock and opens the door, his uncle glaring at him with his arms crossed, glaring at him with a whiskey bottle in his hands. 

"Where the hell have you been, boy?!" Vernon roars, finishing the bottle before tossing it at Harry's head. The bottle shatters against his head and Harry crumples to the floor, the room spinning as he tries to pick himself back up. Vernon walks up to Harry and backhands him across the face, causing the spinning to get worse as he pulls his hand away in disgust, wiping the blood off his hand.

"I can't believe you got your freakish blood on me! Dudley, grab the knife from the kitchen!" commands Vernon.

As Dudley brings the knife and places it in Vernon's hand, he frowns. "Are you sure about this, dad?" He asks, kicking Harry's leg. "He is a freak, but we're not at home. Maybe this should wait?"

"Yeah, I'm sure." He says, cutting Harry's sweater open with the knife. Vernon places the knife against Harry's chest and growls out a whispering warning. "The more you scream, the more I get to carve more of the freakishness out of you, boy."

After saying that, he digs the tip of the knife into Harry's chest and starts carving into it. Harry screams, agonizing pain ripping through him as Vernon carves letters into his chest. The pain burning through his chest as every stroke sets his skin on fire. Every slice of the blade across his skin brings him closer to the sweet release of unconsciousness from the blood loss. If he was lucky, the blood loss would kill him so he could get away from these demons in human skin. Vernon pulls the knife away and steps back, admiring his work. The word "freak" is carved into Harry's chest, blood dripping down from each of the letters. He tosses the knife to Dudley who catches it and looks towards him, his eyes unsure as he looks on the broken boy slumped in front of him.

"Dad, I'm not sure about this. I'll whip him like last time, but this could kill him. I could kill him." Dudley finishes quietly, his grip loosening around the knife.

-Fleur-

Fleur reapparates onto the front porch of Delacour manor, bursting in through the front door as soon as her feet touch solid ground.

" _ PAPA! _ " Fleur screams, running up the staircase and bursting into her father's study. " _ Papa, you have to help me! _ "

" _ What is it, Fleur?! _ " Jacques says, his head snapping up as he looks at his crying daughter. " _ What happened?! _ "

" _ It's Harry, papa! _ " She screams, crying hysterically as she explains, pulling on her hair to try and keep from completely breaking down. " _ We have to help Harry! _ "

" _ Who's Harry, Fleur? What's going on?! _ " He asks, rushing up to hold his daughter.

" _ Harry is being tortured by his family papa! He ran off when I confronted him about it, I think he went back, papa! Why would he do that?! _ " Fleur answers tears running down her face.

Fleur's mother rushes in and hears the screaming, her heart breaking at the sounds coming from her daughter before she yells " _ What is happening, Jacques?! _ "

"_From what I can understand, Harry Potter is being abused by the people he lives with and we have to go help him._" He rushes over to the desk and tosses a handful of floo powder into the fireplace, emerald flames roaring to life. "_That's connected to Madame Bones' office. Go and explain what I just told you and bring her here._ _Fleur, do you know where he is?_"

" _ The Grand Hotel, the one by Luxembourg Gardens! _ " She yells, gesturing to the door. " _ Please, papa! We need to hurry! _ "

" _ Apolline, explain to Madame Bones. He may be on our soil, but he is still a citizen of England. This is also a matter for the English Ministry. _ " Apolline nods and enters the flames, disappearing from sight as he walks over to Fleur. " _ Let's go, my dear. We're going to save him. _ "

She nods and stands up, grabbing her father's hand as he disapparates with her to go and save her beloved.

-Fleur-

Vernon slaps Dudley across the face and the overweight boy lands on his side, not moving at all. Petunia runs up to her son, the wine glass she's holding drops to the ground, forgotten. As Vernon approaches Harry, he gains enough composure to slam his foot into Vernon's kneecap, the sickening snap causing Vernon to drop the knife. Harry picks it up and moves away from them, cowering in a corner of the kitchen.

"Drop the knife, boy!" Vernon snaps at him, Petunia on her knees by Dudley a red mark on his cheek where Vernon slapped him as she blubbers over him being hurt. "Drop the knife before I hurt you even more than I already will for hurting my son."

"I won't let you hurt me anymore..." Harry says, pulling the sleeve of his sweater up and dragging the knife down the length of his arm. The blood flows freely down his arm, his vision turning blurry as unconsciousness and Death rush take him. He only feels one thing as this happens; happiness. A happiness that he was finally away from these monsters, the ones who torture him and break his spirit. 'They'll never be able to hurt me again,' He thinks as dizziness grasps at his vision, but he doesn't let it bother him. A smile crosses his face as a tear flows down his face. "I'm finally free from you all..."

"Well, that's that," Vernon says, turning away as he smiles at Harry slitting his wrist. "Looks like you've finally done something right." 

Harry starts slipping away, darkness closing in around him as he hears an explosion and a crash. The last thing he hears is a beautiful voice screaming his name before he drifts into unconsciousness.

"Fleur..."

-Fleur-

Jacques reapparates into the alley next to the hotel, Fleur by his side. After a few moments, Apolline appears with a faint pop, along with Madame Bones and several other Aurors.

"We 'ave to 'urry!" Fleur yells, rushing out of the alley and into the hotel. She closes her eyes and lets the draw of her destined call to him as she rushes through the lobby and into the staircase. She runs up several flights, moving at an inhuman speed as she tackles the stairs several steps at a time. She opens the door on the floor she feels her mate on, and she rushes over a few doors down before stopping suddenly, dropping to her knees as she feels his heartbeat starting to slow. Everyone appears next to her and she points to the door in front of her. "'Urry..." She says, her words barely a whisper as her mother picks her up. Madame Bones pulls out her wand and points at the door, blasting it open as they all rush in.

"Who the ruddy hell are you lot?!" Vernon screams as Fleur looks into the kitchen, her mind blank. She sees Harry on the ground of the kitchen, his sweater torn open and the bloody word freak carved into his chest. Blood is running down his head as it's facing down, his body completely still. She looks down and sees blood slowly starting to pool around him, his wrist cut open and the knife in his other hand.

"'ARRY!" She screams at the top of her lungs, the windows shattering and the furniture slamming into the walls as her magic surges out of her. Her mind goes blank as panic and fear creep into her mind, blanking out everything else. She runs up to him and pulls him into her arms. "'Arry, you can't die! Non, please no!"

Vernon charges at Shacklebolt, only for him to fire an overpowered stunner at the charging man, causing him to slump to the ground. Madame Bones rushes over to Harry and Fleur, performing some quick magic to stop the bleeding and seal up the wound as best as she can.

"Miss Delacour, we have to get him to St. Mungo's immediately. I have stopped the bleeding for now, but he needs immediate medical attention." Fleur stands up and in a blaze of bright red flames, her clothes burn away in an instant, feathers sprouting from her body as wings explode out from her back, her face contorting and shifting into a beak. Her beautiful sapphire eyes are replaced by yellow eyes with black slits running down through the middle. Red envelops her vision as her veela heritage begins to scream for blood, to end those who ended the one who matters to her. She walks towards the Dursley's slowly, magic radiating from her body as every step causes the tiles on the floor to melt. Every step closer towards the Dursley's causes the righteous fury in her to increase, demanding her to claim their lives, to make them die slowly and painfully. She walks onto the carpet and it bursts into flames under the fire in her feet. She holds her hand up, a ball of fire the size of a basketball forming in her palm. She glares at them with a murderous glare, raising her finger to point at them.

"You..." She whispers. She raises her arm to throw the ball of fire at them, screeching loudly as she makes to throw it at the cowering family, the other Aurors stepping in front of the Dursley's with wands drawn to stop her. "YOU'LL ALL BURN FOR WHAT YOU DID TO HIM!"

"Fleur, no..." The weak voice from behind him makes her head whip around to see her Harry's hand reaching for her. She looks into his eyes expecting to see fear, but all she sees in them is for him pleading not to hurt them. She drops her arm and the fireball disappears, and the feathers, beak, and wings vanish as a naked Fleur rushes back over to him just before he passes out.

"Get those monsters out of here." Madame Bones sneers, waving her hand at the Dursley's. She places her arms around Fleur and Harry and disapparates from the hotel room, leaving the Aurors and Fleur’s family behind.

"What in the ruddy hell do you freaks think you're doing?!" Vernon snaps, struggling to move to no avail. "Why can't I move?!"

Shacklebolt steps forward and glares at him coldly, knives in his eyes as his deep voice booms throughout the room.  "Vernon Dursley, Petunia Dursley, and Dudley Dursley!" He says, stunning the other two to avoid resistance.

"You are all under arrest for abuse, assault, mistreatment of a minor, and mistreatment of a wizard in Harry James Potter. You have the right to remain silent, and I recommend it, as anything you say will be used against you in the courts of the Wizengamot. You are lucky we did not allow her to kill you, because she would have made you suffer everything you put that boy through, and most likely worse. Although, if we're being honest, I would rather enjoy seeing her torture you, as I would like to, as well. However, we are not monsters like you."

Kingsley fires a silencing spell at Vernon so he can't start running his mouth again, before levitating them out of the room. Madame Bones reapparates into St. Mungo's with Fleur and Harry in tow, landing all three of them on a bed in the emergency room of the wizarding hospital.

"Contact Madame Poppy Pomfrey of 'Ogwarts," Fleur whispers to Madame Bones. "'E told me she is ze only one 'e trusts to 'eal 'im."

Madame Bones nods and leaves the room, leaving Fleur to hold him, rocking her destined back and forth in her lap, using him as an anchor to stay sane. After what seems like an eternity, an old woman walks in with Madame Bones, rushing forward to him and gasping at the sight of her favorite patient in such a horrendous state. She shakes off the shock and calms herself, her stoic professionalism taking over as she moves forward, laying Harry's head in her lap as she knew she would not part from him. She runs her wand over Harry's body for a few moments, then starts waving her wand around his body. The cuts begin to close before their eyes as Poppy's wand flies around, barely visible as she casts healing spell after healing spell. After several minutes, she manages to close the wound on Harry's chest and wrist fully. She puts her wand away and pulls out her satchel, procuring a small vial of red potion from within it.

"This is a blood replenishing potion, and we need to get it in him quickly." Fleur nods and helps sit Harry up. Poppy pulls her wand back out and points her wand at him, only to have Fleur instinctively grab her wrist to protect her beloved. "I'm just going to wake him up, my dear. I love him like a son, and I would never do anything to hurt him."

"Sorry, Madame..." She says, removing her wrist and looking back down at him.

"It's alright, dear. Enervate." Poppy says, waving her wand in front of Harry's face. His eyelids slowly flutter open and he groans in pain. Poppy opens the vial and hands it to Fleur.

"'Ere, mon amour," Fleur says, holding the potion up to his lips. "Drink this, 'Arry." 

She tips it up, the potion flowing down Harry's throat as he drinks it all. The color starts coming back to his face as the potion starts replenishing the blood he's lost. Poppy passes another potion to Fleur, motioning for the both of them to drink it. Fleur nods and places it on Harry's lips and he drinks, falling asleep after a few moments.

"Zank you, Madame Pomfrey," Fleur says before pouring the rest down her beloved's throat. She lays down and wraps her arms around him possessively before falling asleep right next to him, protecting him from the world as she holds her beloved close to her. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, everyone! I hope you enjoyed chapter four. This was a really difficult chapter for me to originally write, and I know many people have been there, too. You're not alone, remember that. Constructive criticism is always welcome, flames will be used to bake people alive. I'll see you all next time. This is Mystery Critic, signing off.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, everyone! Welcome back to another chapter of Ma Fleur! I hope you all enjoyed the last chapter, despite the difficulty of it. I hope you all keep enjoying the story and support it. My amazing sister is also an author on here, and you should definitely check out her work. TheoVanyar, enjoy her amazing stories! As for the disclaimer, I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the rights affiliated with it. Now, sit back, relax, and enjoy chapter five!

Harry opens his eyes, the memories of his last time awake flashing through his head. He remembers nothing before going back to the hotel, but he does remember the knife. The way it glinted off the light in the kitchen before disappearing below his line of sight and the pain searing in his chest as the word "freak" was carved into it. The pain was unlike anything he had ever felt Vernon do to him before, except maybe the time he branded him. He tries to get up, but the pain was too much. He looks around and sees that a bed was brought close to his and sees that Fleur is sleeping there facing him. He looks over to see Fleur's sleeping face, her chest slowly rising and sinking as she breathes. His thoughts of the Dursley's and the knife are forgotten as he gets lost in the glow of her beauty. The way her long, silver hair sparkles in the rays of light shining through the window. The way her skin practically radiates with pure exquisiteness, not a single blemish on her pale olive skin. His eyes wander down to her heaving chest, realizing that with the exception of the blanket over her, she is completely naked. The blanket was a teasing bastard, just barely covering her luscious breasts. The blood starts rushing somewhere else besides his brain as his face heats up.   


'Dear God, Goddess, or fucking Morgana.' Harry thinks, hoping she doesn't see his wooden problem when she wakes up. 'Whoever is out there, I promise I will pray to you every day for the rest of my life if you do not let her wake up right now.'   


Harry hears a small moan come from Fleur as she stretches, looking over to see her destined wake up.   


"'Arry, you're awake!" She screams, wrapping her arms around him tightly nearly falling from the bed, pressing her chest against his. "Mon Dieu,* I'm so thankful you are okay, mon amour!"   


Harry is thankful that Fleur is indeed not naked. However, she is in her negligee, the sight of the near-transparent silk nightgown driving his hormonal teenage brain into overdrive. Unfortunately, her rapid movement to hug him prevents Harry from positioning himself to protect his modesty as Fleur's leg drapes over his waist.   


"Why Harry, are you sure you have recovered enough blood for such a response?" Asked Fleur, her eyes sparkling with mischief.   


"Fleur… I, uh… I wasn't going to do anything! I swear! It's just that, well… Uh, blanket and chest coverage didn't really work together, and the blood in my body doesn't want to cooperate, and it's not my fault and I… Um… I'm just digging myself deeper here, aren't I?" Stutters Harry.   


"Oh, my love. Eet iz fine." She says, moving her leg off of his waist. She gets up and wraps her blanket around her, her face slightly red. "I understand completely natural reactions and I shouldn't be teasing you after the horrible experience you just went through."   


"I'm glad you understand, Fleur," Harry says with a chuckle. "Any longer and I probably would have been so embarrassed that the knife might be needed again."   


Harry feels a sting spread across his cheek before he turns and sees Fleur practically seething as she glares at him.   


"Don't ever joke about zat, 'Arry Potter! I almost lost you zat day!" She yells, her hands planted at her sides as she keeps glaring. "Zat eez not funny! Do you 'ave any idea what eet was like walking in to see you lying in a pool of your own blood? DO YOU?! I could not even zink straight! I was ready to kill zose monsters! I would 'ave most likely went to prison, but I would not 'ave cared, because I would 'ave killed zose evil people! Do you understand me, 'Arry James Potter?!"   


Harry stays silent, looking down and turning his face away from her.   


"Answer me, 'Arry!" Exclaims Fleur. Harry doesn't make a sound as he cowers back away from her screams. Fleur takes a breath to calm herself down as she reaches out to comfort him, only for his hands to shoot up in defense, covering his face as he tries to protect himself from the blow he thinks is coming. Fleur realizes the severity of her mistake as she looks down at her hand and starts to shake. She lurches forward and wraps her arms around him, ignoring the flinch that stiffens his body. "'Arry, I am so sorry!" She cries, holding him close as her body wrenches from the heavy sobs emanating from her.   


"Please forgive me, mon amour! I didn't mean to, I swear! Eet iz just… You were talking about killing yourself again, and I just snapped! I didn't even zink! My 'and just moved, 'Arry, I am so sorry! Please forgive me!"   


Harry stays silent, but wraps his arms around her sobbing body, rubbing her back comfortingly. She continues to cry into his shoulder, her shoulders wrenching with the shame and guilt pouring out of her. After a few minutes, she pulls away from Harry and looks at him.   


"'Arry, please say somezing..." She begs, taking his hand in hers slowly and gently. "Say somezing so I know you don't 'ate me..."   


"I don't hate you, Fleur..." Harry says, squeezing her hand. "I could never hate you. Not at all, and I understand why you hit me. I really do. I deserved it for saying something like that."   


"Non, 'Arry!" She interrupts, placing her hand tenderly on his cheek. "You did not deserve to be 'it, no matter what you said. Eet was me 'ho struck out in anger at you saying zat, and I only did it because I was afraid zat you would actually do it..."   


"Fleur… I'm sorry you had to see that. I really am. I wouldn't wish that on anyone." Harry says, lowering his head in shame.   


"'Arry..." Fleur says, her hand covering her mouth as she stares at him. Her heart all but shatters when she sees him suffering like this, being abused so much that he'd rather take his own life than suffer any more. She takes him into her arms and holds him close, pressing his body to hers possessively. "Never again will you feel like zat, 'Arry. Please forgive me for striking you, I swear it will never 'appen again."   


"I forgive you, Fleur." He says, wrapping his arms hesitantly around her body. The doors open and Madame Pomfrey walks in, glowering at Harry and Fleur. "Um, Fleur? Maybe we should stop hugging so you can put some clothes on?"   


"I do not care about clothes, 'Arry." She says, lying him down. She lays down next to him and pulls the blanket up to cover her body as she lies next to him and pulls his body to hers again. "'Owever, I will make myself decent enough so Madame Pomfrey can make sure you are okay."   


"Thank you, Miss Delacour." She says, the pair jump and Harry's face reddens as Madam Pomfrey walks up to the pair. "How are you feeling, Harry?"   


"Fine, Madame Pomfrey," Harry says, looking away. "I'll be fine. I… I just need some time to get over this."   


"Harry James Potter, you have been my favorite patient for three years, and I will not have you lie to me. You are like the son I never had, and I'll be damned if I let you go without telling me everything so I can properly help. Do you understand?"    


Harry nods slowly and looks back up at her, knowing better than to argue with the elder healer.    


"Good. Now, I'm going to give you another blood replenishing potion just in case."   
Poppy opens up her satchel and pulls a small red vial like before out of it, and hands it to Harry. He sits up, opens the cork and downs it quickly, shuddering a little as a little more color comes back to his face.   


"You are looking better already, 'Arry," Fleur says, stretching up to give him a peck on the cheek. Harry blushes slightly. "Now, Madame Pomfrey 'as told me zat you can leave today. While you were unconscious, I asked my papa if you can move in wiz us until you 'ave to leave for the Weasley's. 'E said yes, 'Arry! You get to come 'ome wiz me, mon amour!"   


Harry looks over at Poppy, his smile getting bigger when she nods to let him know it's true.   


"I get to go home with you?" Harry asks, looking at Fleur again. "You really mean it?"   


"Oui, 'Arry." She says, hugging him tightly. "You get to come 'ome wiz me."   


Harry returns the hug and sighs happily, closing his eyes as he lies his head on Fleur's shoulder. Poppy waves her wand over Harry for a few more minutes, using diagnostic spells on him and making sure everything is okay. Once she finishes, she puts her wand away and closes her satchel.   


"Well, Mr. Potter," Poppy said, picking up her satchel and walking to the door.   
"Everything checks out. Don't do anything strenuous and get plenty of rest, understood? Also, do try to stay out of the hospital wing this year, will you?"   


"Oh, come off it, Madame Pomfrey," Harry says, throwing her a cheeky grin. "You know I can't do that. You'd miss me too much."   


"Teenagers..." Poppy mutters, opening the door and leaving.   


"So, shall we get ready to go, 'Arry?" Fleur says, smiling at her destined.   


"Yeah, let's go." He answers, getting up and pulling on the t-shirt lying on the nightstand next to him. 

"I'll wait outside so you can get dressed."   


"Why would you 'ave to wait outside, mon amour?" She says, looking at him curiously. "You are my destined mate. You 'ave every right to look at my naked body. Or do you not want to?"   


"No, it's not that!" Harry says, putting his hands up defensively. He groans and slaps his forehead when she gives him a fake pout, whimpering as if he has just hurt her feelings. "Fleur, of course, I want to see you naked, I just… Wait, no! That's not what I meant, I just… Ugh..."   


Fleur laughs and stands up, holding the cover to her body as she walks over to Harry. She places a kiss on his forehead and strokes his cheek with a curled finger.   


"I am only teasing, 'Arry. You are so adorable when you are blushing, mon cher." She says, spinning her finger for him to turn around. "I understand what you are saying. Zank you for being such a perfect gentleman, but I am not letting you out of my sight until you are at ze Weasley's house. So just turn around and I will get dressed."   


Harry nods with a blush, turning around and covering his eyes with his hand for good measure. Fleur giggles cutely, causing Harry's blush to deepen. Fleur pulls her clothes on and walks up behind Harry, wrapping her arms around his neck slowly and gently, laying her head on his shoulder as she sighs contently.   


"Ready to go, mon amour?" She asks, nuzzling his cheek.   


"Yeah, I'm ready." He answers, dropping his hand and holding it out for her to take. She takes it immediately and they walk out of the hospital room. They walk down the hall while Fleur hums happily, swinging her hand back in forth in Harry's. They reach the lobby after a few moments and Fleur's father walks up to the pair.   


"'Ello zere, Monsieur Potter," Jacques says, extending his hand towards Harry. Harry looks Jacques up and down, measuring him up as he does every new person. Jacques is not much taller than Fleur, dull brown eyes with bags under them, short brown hair combed back neatly, and a beige muggle suit fitting perfectly to his body. "Eet is a pleasure to meet you."   


"It's a pleasure to meet you, too, Monsieur Delacour," Harry says with a smile, taking his hand and shaking it. "But please, call me Harry."   


"Zat's a firm 'andshake, young man." He says, smiling as he shakes Harry's hand. "Now, since you 'ave insisted I call you 'Arry, eet iz only fair zat you call me Jacques."   


"Sure," Harry says, grinning happily before letting go of Jacques' hand.   


"Well, shall we go, zen?" Jacques asks, walking over to the fireplace. He grabs a handful of floo powder and tosses it into the fireplace, an emerald fire roaring to life in front of them. Before going through, he hands Harry a piece of paper. "Zis is where you need to say to go. Our 'ome is under ze Fidelius Charm, so unless I gave you zis piece of paper, you would 'ave been transported into ze middle of ze Atlantic Ocean."   


Thankful that he doesn't have to go swimming with sharks, Harry nods with a smile. Jacques walks into the fireplace and disappears in a flash of emerald flames.   


"Ready to go 'ome, mon amour?" Fleur asks, looking over at Harry. Harry hesitates for a moment, not used to having a home.   


"Will this be my only time here?" He asks, looking up at Fleur with a concerned look.   


"Of course not, mon cher!" Fleur says, stroking his cheek with a loving smile. "Between you and me, papa is working to get you adopted under him and maman. Zat way, after 'Ogwarts, you can be wiz me all the time. 'Ow does that sound?"   


"That sounds… bloody brilliant..." He says, gasping at the news he's just received. "Let's go… Home."   
Fleur smiles at him and walks into the flames, disappearing in a bright flash of brilliant emerald fire. Harry walks up to the fire and walks in, a pleasant warmth washing over him before he feels a yank on his whole body as he calls out the name of his soon to be new home.   


"Delacour Villa!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that's chapter five! I hope you all enjoyed it and will come back wanting more. Constructive criticism is always welcome, flames will be used to cook your hindquarters. I'll see you all next time. This is Mystery Critic, signing off.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, everyone! Mystery Critic here, back at you with another chapter of Ma Fleur! This is the sixth chapter posted, and more will be on the way as soon as they are edited. I just wanted to get these six out to give you all more than just a teasing first chapter. Instead, it's a teasing six chapters. As for the disclaimer, I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the rights affiliated with it. With that out of the way, relax and enjoy chapter six!

Harry shoots out of the fireplace, a good few feet from the ash-filled hole. He slides across the tile floor and coughs as he stands up shakily and dusts himself off. As he beholds the magnificent sight in front of him, pale blue decorates everything, pillars holding up a domed ceiling with artistry rivaling that of the Sistine Chapel. Paintings of majestic angel-like women are dancing with each other across the ceiling, loose feathers flying across the skies as tendrils of fire swirl around them. After basking in the pure grace of the ceiling, Harry lets his eyes follow the detailed carvings in the pillars all the way to the floor. After his eyes drift down the winding vines, he lets his eye wander, taking in the size of the blue and white villa.

"Do you like it, 'Arry?" Fleur asks, walking up to him and wrapping her arms around his waist. "Do you like your new 'ome?"

"It's… incredible." He says, completely dumbfounded. "How big is it?"

"Eet's not too big." She says, smiling as she looks up the stairs. "Two floors, but eet's much bigger zan it looks outside. Magic, and all zat."

Harry smiles and suddenly turns, wrapping his arms around Fleur, her eyes widening in surprise before burying her face in his shoulder. "Thank you, Fleur…" Harry whispers, tears flowing down his face. "Thank you for giving me a real home..."

"I 'ope you're not just going to zank 'er, young man," Apolline says, her hands on her hips with her husband by her side, a smile on his face. "We were ze ones 'ho said yes. Where are our hugs?"

Harry lets go of Fleur and runs into Apolline's open arms, eliciting a smile from her. As soon as he runs into her, her scent invades his nostrils. 'Lavender and vanilla. Same as my Fleur. That sounds so right. My Fleur. Yeah, she is mine. I need to stop resisting that. I'll never find someone who will care for me more than her. She's my Fleur, and that's how it's going to stay.' He thinks, looking up at her with a smile. She looks just like his beloved, only slightly older and a little more filled out. Bright sapphire eyes, waist-length silvery blonde hair, and not a blemish on her pale olive skin. "Thank you, Mrs. Delacour."

"Oh, 'Arry." She says, waving her hand dismissively. "You're my daughter's destined. You call me

maman, and nozing else. Understood?"

"Yes, Mrs. Dela- I mean, maman." He says, blushing at his mistake. He turns to Jacques and extends his hand nervously. He smiles and shakes his head, opening his arms, same as Apolline. Harry smiles and hugs him, too. "Thank you, Jacques."

"You are most welcome, 'Arry. Welcome to ze family." Harry shakes in fear and backs up slowly. "'Arry, what's wrong?"

"No, I can't be a part of a family..." He says shakily, tears running down his face even more than before. "I can't be a part of a family… I'll just ruin it..."

"'Arry, 'ho on Earth told you zat you would ruin a family you are a part of?" Apolline said, approaching him, only to have him back away again.

"Please…" Harry pleaded, putting his hands in front of him. "I'll just ruin your family. Just like I ruined mine and the Dursley's..."

"'Arry..." Fleur says, tears falling down her cheeks. "'Arry, listen to me! You did not ruin any families. Zat evil bastard of a Dark Lord ruined your family, and ze Dursley's were not your family! Zey treated you like you were a slave, and zey got what zey deserved! You do not ruin anything, and you can't ruin zis family, no matter what you do. Do you understand me, mon amour?"

Harry nods slowly and walks into Fleur's open arms, Jacques and Apolline wrapping their arms around the couple.

"Maman!" A scream sounds from upstairs. "Is Harry Potter here yet?!"

"Yes, Gabrielle!" Apolline replied in French. "Come on down and meet him." A door slams from upstairs and seconds later, a little silver-haired bullet comes barreling down the grand staircase, only to trip near the last step. The little bullet is revealed to be a small version of Fleur, about to hit the floor face-first. Harry reacts immediately, pushing out of Fleur's arms and rushing forward, sliding under the falling girl at the last second and catching her. Gabrielle opens her eyes shakily, looking up at her savior. Her eyes go wide, staring at the raven-haired young man who caught her.

"'ARRY!" She squeals happily, wrapping her arms around his neck tightly. She laughs and nuzzles his cheek, placing kisses on his cheek. "'Arry, I can't believe you're finally 'ere! Once maman and papa told me you were coming, I was so excited! You'll be staying forever, right?"

"Uh…" Harry stammers, looking into her hopeful eyes, unable to resist the cuteness of her puppy dog eyes and quivering lip. "Of course I am. I'm your new big brother."

"Big bruzer?" She repeats, pouting. "But I wanted you as my boyfriend!"

"'Ey!" Fleur snaps, glaring at her little sister as Harry blushes. "No chance, little one. He's mine."

"Oh, fine!" Gabrielle says, pouting before breaking into giggles. "I guess a big bruzer is just as good."

She places a kiss on Harry's cheek before hopping out of his arms and skipping back upstairs. "Um… What just happened?" Harry asks, standing up and rubbing the back of his neck confusedly.

"I zink you have anozer number one fan, 'Arry." Apolline said, chuckling. "'Owever, you already have one of my daughters. Don't go stealing the ozer one."

"Oh, stop teasing him, maman," Fleur says, rolling her eyes and grabbing Harry's hand. "Come on,

mon amour. Let's go get you settled into our room."

"Wait, OUR room?" Harry says incredulously. "We're sharing a room?" "Well, of course!" Fleur says, looking at him saucily. "We shared a bed for almost a week."

"Well, I was unconscious for most of that time!" Harry says, a blush creeping onto his face.

"Oui, and I was naked most of the time." She retorts, kissing his neck gently. "Of course, if you prefer me zat way, I would be more zan 'appy to oblige."

"Fleur, behave," Jacques warns. "Zere will be none of zat going on in zis 'ouse. Well, not until you boz know each ozzer a leetle more, zat is."

"That doesn't help, Jacques!" Harry yells, blushing furiously as Fleur giggle and nibbles on his ear.

"I zink you broke 'im, Fleur," Apolline says, pointing to Harry's stiff body, closing his eyes and shaking as his face takes on the shade of a ripe tomato. "Now, go on up to your room and get settled in. We'll call you down for dinner later."

Harry nods as Fleur takes his hand and leads him upstairs and down the hall where Gabrielle skipped earlier. They walk to the end of the hall, red carpet and beautiful wallpaper decorating it. She opens the door on the left and ushers him in, revealing a white room with a giant four-poster monster-sized bed in the middle of the room. A beautiful white wood lowboy dresser is in the side of the room, next to a large double-door closet. "So… that's the bed we'll be sharing?" Harry asks, pointing to the bed with pale, baby blue covers and pillows. "It's beautiful."

"Zank you, mon amour." She says, kissing his cheek. "And yes, zat is our bed. Zis is where you will be coming during ze holidays."

"Well, I can't wait for the holidays.." He says absently, before realizing what he really said. "Oh, shit..."

"Why, "Arry..." Fleur purrs, staring at him hungrily. "You just want to be 'ere to ravish me? Well, I'm glad we zink ze same, mon beau lion.*"

Harry groans and rushes to the bed, flopping down face-first onto the lusciously soft comforter. Giggling, Fleur skips forward, lying down next to him as she rubs his head. "I am only teasing, 'Arry." She says, placing a kiss on his head. "Contrary to what you may zink, I 'ave never been wiz a man before. You will be my first, and I won't rush you into eet. I want our first time to be the most magical night of my life."

"Well, I'll do my best to make that happen when the time comes..." He mumbles into the cover. Fleur smiles, rolls him onto his back, and wraps her arms around him, laying her head on his chest. Harry hesitates for a moment, then shakes the thoughts out of his head and wraps his arms around Fleur, sighing happily at the feeling of someone loving him.

~Fleur~

They lie together for hours until a loud pop resounds throughout the room as a house elf appears in the room. Harry's hand goes to his wand and snaps up in front of him, a stunner already on his lips.

"Attendre!" The house elf says, holding her hands up in defense. Harry lowers his wand and mutters an apology.

Wiping her brow in relief, the elf looks over at Fleur. "Madame Apolline souhaite que vous veniez tous les deux pour dîner."*

"Thank you, Marie," Fleur says, the elf nodding as she disappears. "Well, eet'z time for dinner, my love."

"Do we have to go?" He asks, tightening his grip around Fleur. "I'm quite comfy here, you know."

"As much as I would love to keep cuddling wiz you, 'Arry," She says, sliding up to kiss his chin. "We need to go downstairs for dinner. Come on, love."

"Ugh, fine," Harry says, chuckling as Fleur pulls on his arm. "Come on, 'Arry!" She says, continuing to tug on his arm like a child. "I want to go eat!"

"Okay, Fleur!" Harry says, chuckling again as he gets up. He scoops her up in his arms suddenly, cradling her in his arms as he carries her bridal style. She squeals and giggles, much like her little sister, enjoying the feeling of having someone treat her like a princess and not an object. He swings her around onto his back and carries her out of the room and down the stairs. He stops at the bottom of the stairs, looking from side to side, unsure of where to go. Fleur points to the left and he rushes over, stopping in front of the kitchen door.

"I do believe this is your stop, mademoiselle."

"Oh my, 'Arry." She says, sliding off of his back and stroking his cheek. "Such a gentleman."

"I am at your service, milady." He says, bowing exaggeratedly. "Now, shall we eat?"

"Mhmm!" She says, nodding happily. "I can't wait for our first meal togezer, my love."

"Neither can I, Fleur." He says, placing a small peck on her cheek before pushing the door open. They walk into the kitchen to see house elves preparing food and bustling around the kitchen to make the dinner. They walk through the kitchen and through another door into the dining room.

"Ah, zere zey are!" Jacques said, standing up and brandishing his arms towards them. "My wonderful daughter and son!"

"Well, I'm not your son yet, Jacques," Harry said, blushing slightly as he rubs the back of his neck in embarrassment. "I mean, I haven't married Fleur yet."

"Two zings, young man," Jacques said, walking up to the pair and throwing his arm around Harry's shoulder. "One, you're living in my home, wiz my family, in my daughter's bed. Two, ze key word is 'yet.'"

"Oh, Jacques!" Apolline says, smacking her husband on the back of the head. "Leave zem alone. Zey're just getting started with zeir relationship. Give zem time to get closer and get to know each ozzer!"

"Well, we are pretty close already," Harry says, causing Fleur to giggle and wrap her arms around his neck before placing a kiss on his cheek. "Plus, we have the rest of our lives to get to know each other."

"Wait, really?" Fleur asks, looking over at him incredulously. "What about ze possibility of saying non? Or ze fact you might fall for someone else?"

"First, I realized that's stupid. Second, you're my destined, as you've said, and to refuse you would be devastating to you and your magic."

Fleur's eyes open and her mouth drops at his words.

"So I sneaked out of the bed while you were sleeping earlier and did some reading in your library. If I refused the bond, it would hurt not just you, but could also possibly devastate your magic. I can't do that to you. But that's not the main reason. The main reason is that you're an incredible young woman, with intelligence, charisma, so much kindness that it would make puppy dogs blush. You have the most beautiful heart, and the most passionate and loving soul I've ever had the pleasure of coming across. Plus, you're the most gorgeous girl I've ever seen. If I said no to you asking to be with me, none of my friends would ever let me live it down. Plus, I don't think I could find anyone on this planet who cares for me more than you do. The bottom line, Fleur? I hit the bloody jackpot with someone like you for my destined mate."

"Do… Do you really mean all zat, 'Arry?" She asks, tears rolling down her face.

"Every single word, mon amour." He says, wiping away her tears with a smile. Fleur loses her composure as she crashes her lips against his, placing her hands on his face to hold him still. Harry stiffens, but after a few moments, his eyes roll back and close as he surrenders himself and his emotions to his beloved. He wraps his arms around her waist as she coils hers around his neck, both of them pulling each other as close as possible as if the very thought of space between them was an affront to nature. They lose themselves in the kiss, everything around them disappearing as love, passion, and trust flow through their lips and into each other's hearts.

Fleur pushes forward, pressing Harry against the wall as she jumps up into his arms, coiling her legs around his waist as she deepens the kiss.

The sound of someone clearing their throat draws them out of their spell, making them aware that they were not alone.

"Continue this later, mon amour?"

"I'll 'old you to zat, mon cher." She says, giggling as she climbs off of him.  


"So, now zat we 'ave clarified zat you two are indeed now togezzer, how does that first family meal sound, hm?" Jacques says with a chuckle, gesturing for Harry and Fleur to join him at the table.

"I think that sounds great," Harry says, sitting down in between Fleur and Gabrielle. "Family meal."

He looks around at the people around him, love and comfort filling his heart as he realizes, for the first time in his life, he has a real family.

~Fleur~

A few hours later, Harry is sitting in a chair with his hand on his stomach. Fleur leans on his shoulder, sipping a glass of wine as she rubs his belly. Gabrielle is sleeping in the chair on the opposite side of Harry, her hair covering her face as she lays her head on Harry's lap.

"I zink eet is time to call it a night, non?" Apolline says, walking over to pick up Gabrielle. "I will put 'er to bed, and you two need to do ze same. Go on, now."

"Maman?" Gabrielle says, stirring slightly. She pushes out of her mother's arms and drops to the ground, wrapping her arms around Harry's leg with a pout. "I want 'Arry to tuck me in!"

"Gabrielle, I'm sure 'Arry would love to, but-" She begins, only for Harry to scoop her up in his arms slowly.

"There is no but, maman." He says, nuzzling her nose with his, causing her to break down in giggles. "I'd be more than happy to put this little troublemaker to bed."

"I am not a troublemaker!" She says, giggling.  


"Yes, you are!" Harry retorts, tapping her nose. "Am not!" She argues, sticking her tongue out at him.

"Are too!" He says, sticking his tongue out back at her. She giggles and yawns, laying her head on his shoulder and wrapping her arms around his neck. Smiling, Harry lets Fleur lead him up the stairs to Gabrielle's room.

She opens the door and he carries her over to her bed, laying her down slowly and gently. Her arms slide off of his neck as he pulls the cover up over her sleeping body, tucking it gently under her. He and Fleur leave the room and he shuts the door silently, walking to the door across the hall.

"She's so adorable. I never knew how much fun it would be to have a little sister."

"You will make a great fazzer one day, 'Arry," Fleur says, kissing his cheek. "Zat is for certain."

"Well, maybe," Harry says, opening the door and letting Fleur in before him. He closes the door and turns, Fleur all but tackling him as she pushes him against the door. "Ah, that's right! I promised you we'd pick that kiss up again after dinner."

"Indeed you did, Meester 'Arry Potter." She purrs, nibbling on his ear. "I expect you to make good on that promise."

"I take it I can't use the too much food card?" He says, chuckling. "I mean, look at my poor bloated belly!"

"Non, 'Arry." She says, pouting playfully. "You promised me you'd keep kissing me. Now, make good on zat promise or I will 'ex your bits."

Harry doesn't waste any time as he presses his lips against hers passionately, picking her up and carrying her to the bed. He sets her on top of the comforter and lies on his side next to her, smiling as he kisses her softly again and again, all over her face. She giggles and strokes his cheek, staring into his eyes lovingly. Harry presses his lips back against hers, letting himself go as he closes his eyes in the pure bliss of her soft lips. Fleur coils her arms around his neck, moaning softly into the kiss as she tries to pour as much love as she possibly can into their kiss. Harry smiles as he strokes her cheek, causing Fleur to snap as her instincts take over and she bites his lip gently, pulling back on it before staring at him with a sultry grin. She loses her composure and forgets she's trying to be sexy when she sees Harry staring wide-eyed at her. His face is a dark crimson from what just happened, causing her to giggle and decide that she may have gone too far and that they should slow down a little bit.

"You are so adorable, 'Arry." She says, kissing his nose before pulling the cover over them and burying her head in his chest and cuddling up to him.

"You're so beautiful, Fleur." He says, chuckling as the blush starts to die down. "Today was… incredible, to say the least."

"Yes, eet was, 'Arry." She says, turning her head to place her ear against his heart. "I cannot wait for many more like zis. I cannot wait for our lives to be spent togezzer, mon amour. Goodnight, 'Arry."

"Goodnight, Fleur." He answers, wrapping his arms around her as he closes her eyes, placing his nose on top of her head as he inhales her beautiful scent one last time before they both begin to drift off into sleep, embracing each other as they enter their dreams.

Mon beau lion* - My handsome lion

*Wait! Madame Apolline wishes for you both to come down to dinner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, everyone! that was chapter six. I hope you all enjoyed it, and keep an eye out for chapter seven, coming soon. Constructive criticism is always welcome, flames will be used to make barbeque chicken. I'll see you all next time. this is Mystery critic, signing off.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, everyone! Mystery Critic here, back at you with another chapter of Ma Fleur! I know this chapter is really short, but it was short when I wrote it and it was kind of a mini-filler that I couldn't think of anything to make it longer. In addition, it was back before I started writing chapters around four or five thousand words. I've rambled on long enough. I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the rights affiliated with it. With that out of the way, enjoy chapter seven. Hopefully.

Harry wakes up slowly, his eyes fluttering open as he looks around, alone in his bed.

  
'Our bed,' He reminds himself with a thought. 'It's not my bed, and it's no longer just Fleur's bed. It's both of ours.'

  
He stands up and looks around again, looking for the cascade of silvery blonde hair or those gorgeous, piercing sapphire eyes. When he doesn't find either, he walks to the door of their bedroom and opens it, peeking his head out as he looks back and forth down the hallway. Walking out and closing the door quietly behind him, Harry walks down the strangely long hallway into the entrance hall.

  
"Fleur?" He calls out, cupping his hands around his mouth to amplify his voice throughout the empty halls of Delacour Villa. "Fleur, are you home?"

  
He turns towards the dining room and walks into the room, looking around for anyone as he calls out;   
"Fleur, are you in here?" He yells louder, becoming increasingly worried. "Fleur? Maman? Gabrielle? Papa? Is anyone here?"

  
Harry's  anxiety skyrockets as he begins to fear the worst, his feet start carrying him through all the house; the kitchen, living room, and all of the bedrooms of his new home. He tries to think of anywhere else they could be, and it dawns on him. 

  
"The library!" He exclaims, relief washing over him as he turns on his heel, running towards the library.

"They're probably all just enjoying a read."   


He stops in front of the library's large, ornate wooden doors before pushing them open slowly. His eyes scan the room, spying three heads of long blonde hair and a head of sandy brown hair. Breathing a sigh of relief, Harry walks through the chairs and turns around to face them, a happy greeting on his lips before meeting a terrifying sight. Crimson flashing across his eyes, a color he grew up with, scars like Harry's marring their bodies in lethal, jagged cuts. Words like freak, boy, and nothing carved repeatedly on their skin.

  
"Fleur..." He whispers, his voice barely audible as he drops to his knees. "Fleur, no... You can't be gone..."   
  
"NOOOO!" Harry screams, a wave of raw silver magic launching from within him and slams into the wall, blasting them away and vaporizing everything around the bed in the room. Fleur sits up in an instant, her wand in her hand a second later, her eyes scanning the room as her wand follows.

  
"'Arry, what is it?!" She asks, panic crystal clear in her voice. "What 'appened? Is everyone okay?!"   


Harry hears her voice and turns to see sapphire shine against emerald before he moves in a blur, wrapping his arms around her in a death grip.

  
"Fleur..." Harry breathes, tears shed freely as they flow down his face and dropping down onto the bed. "You're okay... Thank Morgana..."

  
"'Arry, of course, I'm okay, mon amour." She says, wrapping her arms around Harry in return. "Why in ze world wouldn't I be?"

  
"You were dead..." He whispers again, his voice barely being caught by Fleur's sharp ears. "You, Gabrielle, Maman, and papa... You were all dead..."

  
"Oh, 'Arry..." She breathes, tears sliding down her cheeks, as well as she tightens her grip on him, comforting him as best she could. "It was just a nightmare, beloved. It can't 'urt you anymore. Remember, it wasn't real."

  
"But it felt so real, Fleur!" He snaps at her desperately. "I couldn't do anything to save you!"

  
"Zat's what nightmares do, 'Arry." A voice calls out from the doorway. The teens turn to see Appoline sanding in the doorway, tears pooling in the corner of her eyes with Gabrielle in Jacques' arms, sniffling and staring at Harry with concerned compassion. "Zey take our worst thoughts and fears, zen trap us in zem without being able to do anything. Zey make us feel weak, powerless."   


"Zey can't hurt you, zough," Jacques says, walking into the room behind Appoline. "All zey can do is scare you. Nozzing else."

  
Harry looks around the room at everyone, tears continuing to spill from his eyes as his head drops down, his body wracking with soundless sobs as his family wraps their arms around him, letting him know everything is okay.   


-Fleur-   


After an hour or so of comforting Harry, Jacques looks around the room, or lack thereof, in this case. Confused and slightly impressed, he turns to look at Harry.

  
"'Arry?" Jacques says, looking down at him with a curious expression. "Can you tell me what spell you used to do this to your room?"

  
"I don't know, Jacques..." Harry responds weakly, looking away for fear of being punished. "I'm sorry... I woke up with a scream and that's all I know."

  
"It's okay, 'Arry," Appoline says, smiling at him softly. "It was an accident. No one blames you."   
Waving her wand, the walls of the room start reforming slowly, and after a few moments, were repaired like new.

  
"See? All better." She says, standing up. "Come now. Let us 'ave breakfast so we can go and get your school shopping done early."

  
"That's right..." Harry says, looking down sadly. "In a few weeks, I won't be seeing any of you for a year..."   
"Bah!" Jacques exclaims, waving his hand dismissively. "Of course you will! Apolline and I will be coming to all of your Quidditch games, and Gabrielle will be coming with us every time. As for Fleur, you may be seeing her more than you think."   


"What do you mean?" Harry asks.   


"Jacques!" Appoline scolds, smacking the back of his head for good measure. "You shouldn't be telling him zat! He's not supposed to know about it!"

  
"Oops..." He says sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. "My bad, cheri..."

  
"What are you talking about?" Harry asks curiously, wiping the tears from his face.   


"Nozzing, dear," Appoline answers, waving him off. "You'll find out at school. I promise."   


"Okay, then..." Harry answers hesitantly. Standing up and ushering everybody out, Harry closes the door so he can get dressed. A few minutes later, Harry meets everyone downstairs with a smile on his face. "I'm ready! Let's go shopping!"   


-Fleur-

  
Walking into Diagon Alley, after getting Harry's supplies first, Harry starts veering towards Gringott's bank.

  
"'Arry, where are you going?" Jacques asks, looking from Harry to the bank and back to the young teenager. "We 'ave to go to zis Madame Malkin to get your wardrobe for zis year first."

  
"I know, Jacques," Harry begins, shuffling in place nervously. "I was just going to get some money from the bank. I... Don't feel right making you guys pay for my school stuff."

  
"'Arry, what do you mean 'make us?'" She asks, looking at him in confusion. "We want to do zis. You are part of zis family and will be treated as such. We know you don't zink of us as your parents yet, but give it time. After a while, we all hope to be ze family you never had."

  
"Are... Are you sure?" He asks, looking up at them slowly.

  
"Certain, 'Arry," Jacques answers with a smile, placing a hand gently on Harry's shoulder. Harry flinches for a moment before hearing a voice he wasn't expecting to hear until late in the summer. 

  
"Harry? What are you doing here?"   


Turning around, Harry's eyes widen as fear set in him, fear that he'd have to go back to them again.   
"Professor Dumbledore?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that was chapter seven. Again, I know, shorter than a pixie. Sue me. Not really, I have nothing to take. Anywho, constructive criticism is always welcome, flames can go suck on a dead dog's nose. I'll see you all next time. This is Mystery Critic, signing off.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, everyone! Mystery Critic here, back at you with another chapter of Ma Fleur! I hope you all enjoyed the last one, and I know the cliffhanger was pretty evil. Now you don't have to wait for more. As for the disclaimer, I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the rights affiliated with it. Anywho, with that out of the way, please enjoy chapter eight!

"Professor Dumbledore?" Harry asks, turning around to see the last person he expected to see. "What are you doing here?"

  
"What am I doing here?" He asks, rushing up to him to place his hand on Harry's shoulder. "What are you doing here? We have to get you back to the Dursley's! You're not safe out here in the open right now!"

  
"I'm not going back to those monsters, Professor!" Harry snaps, venom in his voice and ice in his veins, Dumbledore paling at the emerald glow in his eyes. "They can never hurt me again, and I'm never going back. I'd rather die."

  
"Harry, my boy," Dumbledore begins, a grandfatherly smile on his face and a twinkle in his eyes. "I'm quite certain you're exaggerating. Now, come along. Let's get you back home.

  
"May I ask what you're doing wiz 'Arry, monsieur Dumbledore?" Jacques asks, walking up to the pair.

  
"I'm sorry, Jacques, my boy," Dumbledore says, turning Harry away from Jacques. "I'm afraid this doesn't concern you. I am young Harry's magical guardian, and I am simply returning him to his dwelling."

  
"I said I'm not going back, you barmy old goat fucker!" Harry yells, glaring at Dumbledore. "Are you going deaf in your old age?!"

  
"Harry, please watch your language." Dumbledore chides.

  
"I'm afraid you're mistaken, Monsieur Dumbledore." Jacques says icilly, pulling out his wand and waving it, separating Harry from the old man. "You must 'ave not gotten ze memo, but your magical guardianship was removed due to negligence and failure to provide safe 'ousing for zis young man. As of right now, I am the magical guardian for young 'Arry, 'ere."

  
"Surely you are mistaken, Jacques," Dumbledore says nervously, stepping forward.

  
"I am not mistaken, Dumbledore, and if you take anozzer step towards my young ward, I will have you placed under arrest for trying to meddle in the affairs of a foreign diplomat." Jacques impresses, raising his wand towards Dumbledore. "Young 'Arry is under my care and will remain so until my government 'as deemed ozzerwise. As a member of ze British government, your actions 'ave been despicable, and ze French government was more zan welcome to give citizenship to zis wonderful young man. So, I am going to ask you to back away from my ward, and leave us to our shopping."

  
Dumbledore is struck speechless, his face marred with concern and confusion. As he steps back a few paces, he begins to turn to disapparate.

  
"Oh, and Dumbledore?" Jacques says, narrowing his eyes at the old man. "You do not 'ave my permission to address me so formally. Please refer to my proper title. We are not so close as you may zink." With a nod, Dumbledore turns on the spot and disapparates away. Turning back to Harry with a smile, Jacques ushered him on towards Gringott's. "I zink zat you should try and find out about your possible Lordships, 'Arry. With Dumbledore finding out about zis, 'e will no doubt try and do something to get guardianship back."

  
"Thank you, Jacques," Harry says, walking towards Gringott's with Jacques. "I really appreciate you doing that."

  
"It is I 'ho must zank you, 'Arry," Jacques says, clapping him gently on his back with a smile. "I 'ave never heard a most wonderful name for zat meddling old fool. Barmy old goat fucker. I will 'ave to show that memory to ze people down at the office. Zey will get quite ze laugh out of it."

  
Chuckling along with Jacques, the two men walk up the steps of Gringotts bank, opening the door and stepping in. 

-Fleur-

  
Reapparating into the Headmaster's Office, Albus strides with determination to the fireplace of his office. Grabbing a handful of Floo powder and a quick mutter Ministry of Magic, he stepps into the blazing emerald flames and exits into the main entrance hall of the Ministry, a regal yet determined step bringing him down the hallway to the elevators. Stepping into one, he turns to the man by the controls and speaks softly.

  
"Level Two, if you would, please." He says, turning his attention back to the grate before reaching up and grabbing the hanging handhold as the lift lurched back. After a moment of travel, the elevator stops and opens.

  
"Level two, Department of Magical Law Enforcement, including the Improper Use of Magic Office, Auror Headquarters, and Wizengamot Administration Services" A female voice projects from the lift. "Please present your wand at the desk for identity confirmation, and have a nice day."

  
Dumbledore steps out and walks down the short hallway to the desk, where a woman reading a magazine speaks in a bored tone without looking up.

  
"Wand, please."

  
"I hardly think that will be necessary, my dear," Dumbledore says in his grandfatherly voice, a small smile upon his lips. The woman looks up from her magazine and her eyes widen.

  
"Professor Dumbledore!" She says with a look of disbelief. "I am so sorry, sir! I didn't know it was you."

  
"Not a problem, my dear." He says, waving his hand dismissively. "I do, however, need to see Amelia."

  
"I can call to see if you can see her, but I can't do it without having registered your wand, sir." She said, looking up at him in embarrassment. "It's the rules, and if you don't present your wand, I could lose my job."

  
"I understand, my dear." He says, pulling the Elder Wand and holding it out to her. Taking the wand carefully, she places it gingerly on the scale for a few moments, a piece of paper appearing before her.

  
"Elderwood and a thestral hair core, been in use for forty-five years." She says, reading off the paper. "Is that correct, Professor?"

  
"Quite correct, my dear." He says, smiling wider before holding his hand out. She places the wand back in his hand and he rolls it gingerly between his fingers before slipping it back into his robes. "Thank you, dear. I'll be sure to commend you on your incredible job to Amelia."

  
"Thank you, sir!" She says, beaming up at him. "I really appreciate that, Professor Dumbledore. I'll go see if Amelia can see you now."

  
"Thank you, Miss Ellen." A smile crosses her face at being remembered and rushes off. A few moments later, she comes rushing back, sitting back down at the desk and huffing heavily. "Take a moment, my dear. Catch your breath."

  
Nodding at him in thanks, she waits a few moments to be able to breathe easily before looking back up at him and speaking; "She said you could see her in five minutes, she has some paperwork to finish before lunch, but you need to make it quick. She has business to attend to afterward."

  
"I suppose I could take five minutes to catch up with such a gifted Transfiguration student." He says with a smile, pretending to ponder it. "How is your dear mother?"

  
"She's great, sir!" Miss Ellen responds, beaming up at the headmaster again. "She's the assistant head of this office. She was one of the ones who helped me get this job."

  
"That's wonderful to hear, my dear." He says, annoyance eating him up at being made to wait. He was Albus Dumbledore, after all! The Leader of the Light, Greatest Wizard since Merlin! He should be seen when he appears. Noticing she was waiting for him to respond to something, he looks back down her. "I'm sorry, dear girl. Could you repeat that? My mind wanders from time to time. One of the downsides to old age, I'm afraid."

  
"Of course, sir." She says, gesturing behind her. "I said you can go in now."

  
"Thank you, my dear," He says, walking past her with a nod. Walking down past the desks, he strides up to the door of an office with a gold plaque adorning the aged wood that reads "Amelia Bones, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement" in bold black lettering. Knocking upon the door, he hears his entrance being granted and walks in. "Amelia, my dear woman! How are you?"

  
"I'm quite well, Albus," She says, a professional smile adorning her features, giving a nod causing her short, cropped grey hair to bob as she stares at him, her dull brown eyes piercing his own blue through the monocle. "How are you?"

  
"I am well. I must commend young Miss Ellen on her determination to making sure her job is done properly. She would not even come to speak to you until I presented my wand. She did a wonderful job and it's good to see students doing well after school. However, I am afraid I am not here for a social call." He says, sitting down at her motion after transfiguring the chair into a plush recliner with a wave of his wand. "Why was I not informed of having my magical guardianship of Harry Potter revoked?"

  
"A memo was sent out to you, and our readings show that it was delivered. After that, whether or not you read it is up to you." She responds with a noncommital shrug.

  
"Where, may I ask, was it delivered to?" He asks carefully.

  
"To your office at Hogwarts, of course." She says, crossing her fingers in front of her mouth. "Did you not see it?"

  
"I must have missed it, I'm afraid," He lies, leaning back in the chair and placing one knee on top of the other, crossing his hands on top of them. He had, of course, read the letter, simply dismissing it as something impossible. "Let me ask another question, then. Why was my magical guardianship revoked?"

  
"Failure to perform your duties," Amelia answers simply as if it was obvious. "Placing him in an abusive home, failure to check up on him monthly, to name a few."

  
"I had a trusted friend check up on him monthly, Amelia." He says, huffing up in a small bit of aggravation. "He said the boy was in splendid health, albeit a tad bit peckish, but quite fine, nevertheless."

  
"Who might this trusted friend be?" She asks, staring him down, clearly upset with the treatment of Magical Britain's savior.

  
"I am not at liberty to divulge his identity, Amelia." He says. "He is still a trusted friend, and would not lie about Harry."

  
"I see." She says, pretending to contemplate his word. After a moment, she pulls a small scroll out of her desk and places it in front of him, waving her hand to make the seal disappear. "This is the complete list of reasons why guardianship was removed."

  
"Thank you, Amelia," Dumbledore says, opening the scroll and reading down the scroll, before stopping as his eyes nearly pop out of his head and stood up in rage. "Embellishment of funds?! What is this rubbish? I never stole from the young man!"

  
"Gringott's says otherwise." She responds calmly, looking up at him. "You can take that up with them, but it is because of your positions and political power that you are not currently sitting in a Ministry holding cell pending a trial."

  
"I will be back, Amelia," Dumbledore promises, turning on the spot and walking towards the door.

  
"Albus," Amelia calls, halting him. "Please transfigure my chair back to how it was."

  
Waving his wand, the chair returns to its previous state as Albus stomps out of the office with a huff.

  
-Fleur-

  
Walking up to the towering desk, Harry looks up and speaks respectfully.

  
"Excuse me, Sir Goblin," Harry says in a clear and confident voice. "I wish to speak to someone about inheritance, Lordships, and the such, if you would please."

  
Looking over the desk down at the young wizard, the goblin takes in the appearance of the young man looking at him with a sincere smile and the appearance of someone speaking respectfully to another.   
"May I ask who you are, young wizard?"

  
"Of course, sir." He says, bowing slightly, but enough that every goblin eye in the room catches the movement. A wizard bowing to a goblin! It was unheard of to be shown such respect by a wizard. "My name is Harry James Potter. I was recently informed that since I turned fourteen, I could take up the mantle of Head of House Potter."

  
"While most houses require the wizard or witch to be of age, some Ancient and Noble houses allow Lordship at fourteen if there are no other viable heads alive. House Potter is one such house. I shall summon a goblin to take you to the Potter account manager immediately."

  
"Thank you, sir," Harry says, bowing lower and much more defined as the goblin pressed down on a rune. "May your coffers never empty and your blade stay always sharp."

  
At this point, every goblin iss staring wide-eyed in disbelief at the young wizard. He knew Goblin etiquette, too?! Who was this wizard? A goblin walks in, looking in disdain at the pair of wizards in front of him.

  
"Griphook!" Harry exclaims happily, bowing low with respect for the goblin in front of him. "How wonderful it is to see you again!"

  
Gold dropps around the room and goblins fall out of their chairs in a dead faint at the image of a wizard remembering a goblin by name. Griphook stares in shock at the boy in front of him.

  
"You remember me, Mr. Potter?" He asks in complete incredulity.

  
"Of course!" He exclaims, a wide smile on his face. "How could I forget the first goblin who showed me to my vault in this illustrious bank?"

  
A sharp-toothed grin on Griphook's face, he crosses his fist over his chest and held his other hand out to Harry. Harry's eyes widen at the offer of respect in front of him. Crossing his own fist over his chest, Harry reaches forward and grabs Griphook's forearms as the shell-shocked goblin does the same. A warrior's sign of respect has the room in dead silence before more thuds sound out in the room as almost every goblin falls to the floor. No wizard since Merlin had received this symbol of respect from a goblin, and Harry knew it.

  
"Come with me, Mister Potter," Griphook says again, flashing a toothy grin at the wizard. "Let's bring you to your account manager, shall we?"

  
Nodding with a bright smile, Harry follows Griphook, looking back to see Jacques staying where he is with a thumbs up. Harry walks behind the goblin as he leads him down a series of hallways to a door.

  
"Here you go, Mister Potter," Griphook says, gesturing to the door. "Master Sharpblade is inside, and he has been notified of your arrival."

  
"Thank you, Griphook," Harry says, bowing once more. "May your blade never dull."

  
"May your battlefield be stained scarlet with the lifeblood of your enemies." With a bow back, Griphook leaves and Harry turns back to the door. Knocking on it, Harry waits patiently for an answer.

  
"Enter!" Harry hears a gruff voice calling out from inside. Walking in, Harry sees a goblin with scars marring his body. "Sit, Mister Potter. Don't worry. I only bite those who would threaten me."

  
"Thank you, Master Sharpblade." Sitting down, Harry looks up at the goblin with a smile, receiving one in return. Looking around the room, Harry notices it's different from the white and brown marble hallways he's seen throughout Gringott's. The room seems to be a decent-sized cavernous area, the walls made of jagged black rock. Hearing the goblin speak, he turns his attention back to his account manager.

  
"Tea, Mister Potter? Water?" He offers, waving his hand as a platter of drinks appeared in front of Harry.

  
"I'd love some tea, as long as you pour yourself a cup first, Master Sharpblade," Harry says with a smirk, only to receive a booming laugh from the goblin.

  
"I like you, youngling!" Sharpblade says, slapping his desk in throes of laughter. "You remind me of myself when I was a young. You know what you want, but you're still respectful, even when you're a little spitfire! How can I help you?"

  
"Well, I was told since I was fourteen, I could take up the mantle of Lord Potter," Harry says.

  
"I was wondering when I'd see you!" He says, pulling out a dagger. Harry stiffens slightly, not going unnoticed by the old goblin. A deathly silence permeates through the room as the goblin's eyes scan over Harry. "You've survived battle your whole life, haven't you?"

  
"How..." Harry begins, only to have Sharpblade hold up a hand to silence his questions.

  
"How is not important." He explains, looking over at Harry. "What is important is that you need to learn to wear those scars with pride. You've gone through a life of abuse and torture, but you came out on top. That's what's important. You survived! Display them with pride, not with shame. Otherwise, what's the point in surviving at all if you're not proud of doing so?"

  
"I'm ashamed because I was weak, Master Sharpblade..." Harry says softly, looking away.

  
"Then take that and get stronger!" Sharpblade snaps, his eyes ablaze with determination to see Harry see the light. "Use that pain, that shame, use it and become so strong that no one can make you feel weak again! Build up your magic, your body, your mind! Build it up so strong that no one can ever defeat you again! You take that strength and you shove it up everyone's ass! Those who abused you, that self-proclaimed Lord Twatface, everyone whoever stands in your way! Use it and strike down all in your path who would deter you! You take that power and prove to not everyone else, but prove to yourself that you will never be weak again!"

  
The room was silent for a moment before Harry looks back up at Sharpblade, a smile of determination on his face.

  
"I will never be weak again!" Harry declares, reaching up and tearing the sleeves off of his sweater, displaying the scars on his arms proudly.

  
"That's what I'm talking about!" Sharpblade says, standing up and slapping Harry across the back. "I'm proud of you, youngling. Now, what say we get to what you came here for, eh?"

  
"Yes, let's do just that," Harry says, crossing his arm over his chest before offering his hand out to the goblin in front of him. Repeating the action, the two share a look of understanding between their eyes before returning to their seats. "Thank you, Master Sharpblade."

  
"Think nothing of it," He says, waving a clawed hand dismissively. "Anything I can do to help a fellow warrior let go of the past. Also, call me Sharpblade. This whole 'Master' thing makes me feel old."

  
"You, old? Never!" Harry says in mock disbelief, smirking at Shaprblade.

  
"Cheeky little thing, ain't ya?" Sharpblade chuckles, eyeing Harry who simply shrugs, his smirk turning into a smile as he thought to himself. 'Your father would be proud, youngling.'

  
"Let's do this, Sharpblade," Harry says, holding his hand out palm up. Nodding with a smile, Sharpblade slashes the dagger quickly over Harry's hand before dropping the few drops of blood onto the blank scroll in front of him. As his eyes scan over the scroll, the goblin's grin slowly turned into a predatory smile. "What is it, Sharpblade?"

  
"I think you'll make quite the impact on our world, Lord Potter." He answers, holding the scroll out in front of Harry. Taking it from Sharpblade, he reads down to the end quickly, his eyes bugging out of his skull before looking up at the goblin.

  
"Bloody fucking hell!" Harry yells, the laugh of the goblin heard throughout the halls of Gringott's.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all enjoyed chapter eight! It was really fun for me to write, and I don't know why more wizards don't treat the goblins with respect. Oh, wait. Anywho, constructive criticism is always welcome, flames will be used to heat the Goblin Forges. I'll see you all next time! This is Mystery Critic, signing off


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, everyone! Mystery Critic here. So sorry for the lack of chapter for so long. I was trying to get out chapters on FF and I haven't been able to do that lately due to extenuating circumstances. Fortunately, that should be rectified shortly. In addition, I did not have a beta to cover the previous chapters that were quite frankly, awful. Thankfully, my wonderful beta has agreed to do it in between chapters on FF. As soon as the chapters are caught up here to chapter seventeen, there will be a mass post all the way up to the current chapter on FF, and from there on chapters will be posted on both sites the same day. With all that out of the way, sit back, relax, and enjoy chapter nine!

_Italics_ \- French

"Bloody fucking hell!" Harry yells, staggering back as he places a hand on the chair behind him to steady himself. "Are you kidding me?!"

"On the contrary, youngling." Sharpblade says, a feral grin on his face. "I am far from kidding you. The parchment never lies."

"So... I'm Lord of three houses and a Morgana be damned billionaire?!" Harry asks incredulously, having to sit down so he doesn't fall down. "How in the name of Merlin's hairy left goose egg is this even possible?!"

Letting out a loud bark of laughter, Sharpblade looks back at the boy in front of him before breaking down into peals of uncontrollable laughter. After wiping a tear of mirth from his eye, he looks back at Harry and suppressed any further cases of the giggles. "That's multi-billionaire, and it's actually quite simple, mister Potter." He says, taking the parchment back and a serious look forming upon his face, formed from centuries of business practice. "Once you adorn the first ring, you'll be Lord of House Potter, and you'll become emancipated. Upon being emancipated, you'll be able to adorn the Peverell ring, as your blood is the least diluted when it comes to the Peverell line, and as such, you're the most eligible to claim the Lordship. There are most likely others, but they don't qualify as you do. Finally, there's being Lord Slytherin. You earned that title by Right of Conquest; an age-old law upon defeating Lord of a House three times, you may take control of that house if you so wish. You have defeated one self-proclaimed Lord Voldemort three times now, correct?"

"I mean, technically, yeah, but..." Harry begins, his mind trailing off, the implications of being this high in the social ladder being quite overwhelming. "Does this mean I have to do anything?"

"Not technically, no." Sharpblade began, taking out three boxes from under his deck. "You may choose to take your seats upon the Wizenagamot upon turning seventeen, if you so wish."

"And the other option is...?" Harry asked, a smirk appearing on Sharpblade's face again before he gestures to the boxes and behind him.

"Enjoy a simple and relaxed life of luxury. You wouldn't have to work, nor would your family run out of money anytime in the next several centuries, no matter how much you spend."

"How am I this rich?!" He yelled, completely gobsmacked.

"Well, your grandfather, Fleamont Potter invented SleakEazy's Hair Potion, and that still brings in quite a substantial amount of royalties every month, as it is used around the world." Sharpblade explained, looking at the amazed youngling in amusement. "As for the Peverell family, they have millions in jewels, as the family has spent centuries exploring the world, finding whatever they could. The Slytherin family, well, let's just say that that's one of the most substantial vaults in the entire bank. Now, may I ask if you are ready to take your Lordship rings?"

Harry was completely and totally flabbergasted. He could live like a king for years, never having to worry about anything. Getting his mind back in control, he looks at Sharpblade hesitantly before asking. "Sharpblade, what if I wanted to work? As a Lord of three Houses, or whatever, can I still work if I want to? I kinda wanted to become an Auror, or maybe a Cursebreaker."

"What in the world makes you think you wouldn't be able to work if you wanted to?" Sharpblade asks, a look of delighted confusion plastered on his face. "Now, come along. Claim these rings on and get out. Some of us have work to do."

Chuckling as Sharpblade winks at Harry, he nods, allowing the gnarled goblin to push the boxes forward, pointing to a deep red on first. Harry reaches forward and opens it, a shining silver ring shining out, rubies adorning the band. A large ruby rests in the center, and a small griffon insignia made of gold is spread against the top of the ruby. Taking it out, Harry slips it on his right middle finger, a small tingle passing through his body as the ring accepts him as the Head of House. Looking up at Sharpblade in confusion, he gets a raised eyebrow in response. "Is... Is that it?" Harry asks hesitantly.

"Well, what were you expecting? A big flash of light, some magical blast, or something?"

"Um, kinda?"

"Of course not." Sharpblade chuckles. "Where on Earth would you get that stupid idea?"

"I'm going to kill you, Ron..." Harry mutters, grumbling something about saturating lust potions and letting the Whomping Willow have his way with him. "Well, is there anything I should know about the other two?"

"Oh, now you ask!" Sharpblade snaps in fake annoyance. "Well, the Potter ring will protect the head from most curses, hexes, and jinxes, barring the Unforgivables and other truly Dark Magicks, like Fiendfyre. The Peverell ring will detect things like wards and harmful runes. Finally, the Slytherin ring will protect you from all harmful potions, poisons, and the like, rendering them ineffective, as well as detecting them. Upon the Peverell or Slytherin ring detecting anything like what I've described, they will heat up and shake. It's kind of hard to miss, youngling. Now, here. Put on the Peverell ring."

Opening the next box, a beautiful light brown oak box, Harry pulls out the ring and examines it. It was a simple ring made of obsidian, shining as beautifully as the night sky, a small symbol of what looked like an eye in simple silver. After making a mental note to ask Hermione to research that symbol, Harry shrugs and slips the ring onto his right ring finger. As soon as it resizes into place, a blue glow surrounds his body, several brown glows surrounding the blue glow. He looks up at Sharpblade for an explanation, and receives a head scratch in return before the goblin responds. "The only thing I can think of is that there was a ward of some kind on you, and the ring neutralized it. Several of them, from what it looks like. The blue one, to my best guess, was maybe a magical core binder. Quite a powerful one, at that. The others looked like monitoring charms linked to you and the same person who cast the core binder. However, that's just my best guess."

"You knew exactly what each of those were, didn't you?" Harry asks in a deadpan.

"You insult me, youngling!" Sharpblade says, feigning hurt. "Why would I tell you I don't know what they mean, then tell you what they mean?"

"Probably because you're a bloody twat, that's why." Harry responds, rolling his eyes.

“I knew I liked you, youngling!" The goblin yells before letting loose another booming laugh. After a minute or so, he wipes another few tears from his eyes before speaking again. "Yes, I knew what they were. It matters not now, however, it's over and done with. Let an old goblin have his fun!"

"Git." Harry says, doing the mature thing and sticking his tongue out at the goblin.

"Kraglixhin." The goblin answers, sticking his tongue back out in kind. After receiving a confused stare from Harry, Sharpblade shakes his head with a sigh. "It means 'prat' in your language."

"Oh. Can you teach me some swears in your language?" Harry responds, enthusiasm and excitement in his voice.

"Normally, we wouldn't teach any wizard our language, as they call it that ridiculous name, but since you called it our language instead, I'd be happy to." Sharpblade says with a chuckle. "I'll send the list of some good ones next week. Sound good?"

Wicked! Thanks, Sharpblade!" Harry says, raising his hand for a high-five before remembering who he was talking to and lowering it back down.

"Hey!" Sharpblade snaps, a smirk on his face when Harry looks back up. "Put that back up, I was going to use it!"

Smiling brightly, Harry raises his hand back up and Sharpblade responds with a loud slapping high-five. "Now, how about we get this last ring on you and get you out of my office, eh, ya little brat?"

"Sure thing, ya old coot." Harry responds cheekily, getting another smirk from the goblin sitting across from him. He opens the black wood and green velvet box, pulling out a silver ring with diamonds around the band, and a large emerald with a snake carved in the surface and filled with white gold. Harry slips it on his right pinky finger, and it resizes and he feels another tingle pass through him.

"Good!" Sharpblade barks, getting up and patting Harry on the back after walking around and placing a pad of paper in his lap. "One last thing, here's a bank transcript. They work kind of like muggle checks. Ask your guardian how they work, he'll tell you. Now do me a favor and beat it. My mate will be pissed if I get home late."

Walking towards the door, Harry opens it before turning back for one more quip. "So, your mate is the one who wears the pants, right?" Harry ducks out of the way of a bright flash of purple light, laughing as he runs down the hall.

"Cheeky little bugger." Sharpblade mutters before pressing a rune on his desk. "Griphook, lead Lord Potter out, will you? That boy is going places, and we need to be allies with him. He's a hoot, and I think High King Ragnok will enjoy his humor."

  
  


-Fleur-

  
  


Walking out of Gringott's, Harry spots Jacques and Fleur standing next to him. Running up to Fleur, he picks her up and spins her around, delighting in the squeals of laughter coming from her as he spins her around. "Hey, Fleur!" he says, setting her down and hugging her to him. "I missed you!"

"'Arry, we've only been apart for a few hours, you silly man!" She responds with a gentle swat on his shoulder.

"Yeah, and it was a few hours too long!" Harry retorts with a fake pout. "I missed you, so sue me."

"Non," She says, bending over to kiss him gently on the nose. "I zink I shall keep you."

"I'd be an idiot to argue with that!" He said, grinning from ear to ear. "I may not have been put in Ravenclaw, but I'm smart enough to know that what a pretty witch says goes."

"Well, 'Arry." Jacques says, tossing his hands in the air in fake exasperation. "Zere is nozzing left for me to teach you. You already know everyzing zere is to know to pleasing your wife. Just say 'yes, dear.' All zere is to it."

"Papa!" Fleur squeals, smacking him on the shoulder. "Be'ave or I will tell Maman!"

Raising his hands in a placating manner in front of his chest in surrender, he smirked at Fleur and winked at Harry before turning towards the rest of the alley. "Now, where to?"

"Well, I think that I should buy everyone some ice cream at Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour, best ice cream in Wizarding Britain." Harry said, waving the pad around him. "So, who should buy? Lord Potter, Lord Peverell, or Lord Slytherin?"

Fleur and Jacques' jaws drop as they stared at him in disbelief. Harry simply turns and walks down the alley towards the shop, a smirk of victory on his face. After a few minutes, the three of them were enjoying a large sundae together, Fleur purring in happiness every time the creamy treat hit her taste buds.

"Why does she keep purring?" Harry asks, watching as she takes another bite without even hearing him. "It can't be that good, can it?"

"While it is very good, Veela have a particular... shall we say, reaction to sweets." Jacques started explaining. "Sugary sweets are like... well, zey make Veela quite happy. Zat's all you need to do to make a Veela 'appy. Chocolate, ice cream, or anyzing sugary. Zey will love you forever. Period."

"Good to know." Harry says, a smirk on his face as he takes another bite, staring at Fleur and imagining all the things he could get away with.

"I 'ave to use ze washroom. I will be back." Fleur says, standing up and walking to the back, and through a door in the back of the room.

"Wait, Florean's doesn't have a public restroom!" Harry says, fear evident on his face as they dash towards the back door. They burst out through the door and see a man in a black robe with a silver mask carrying a sack, someone inside squirming around. Tossing a scroll to the ground with a smirk, he disapparates out of the alley as Harry and Jacques get their wands out. "FLEUR! GOD DAMN IT, NO!"

Bending down, Jacques picks up the scroll and unfurls it and reads it out loud. "We 'ave all three of the creatures. Bring one 'undred million galleons to ze North end of Greenwich Park by noon tomorrow, or we sell zem to someone. Or maybe we'll..." Jacques's voice dies out before picking it back up again in a shaky tone. "...play wiz zem ourselves…"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MWAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!! I hope you enjoyed that cliffhanger soup because I honestly forgot how delicious it was! As usual, constructive criticism is welcome, flames will be used to boil the potions I make. as usual, read, review, and spread this baby around. There's much more to come, so stick around. This is Mystery Critic, signing off.

**Author's Note:**

> Well, everyone! That's chapter one of Ma Fleur! I hope you all enjoyed it and come back for more! This is Mystery Critic, signing off.


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